Nirvana
by katerinapunk
Summary: The Seireitei is under attack by the Quincy. When several of the seated officers are taken hostage in the Quincy city - "Nirvana", the Goteï jumps into action. Isane and Matsumoto, along with a few others, must find a way out before being in Nirvana takes its' toll. Several weird pairings, Canon material irrelevant. ONE SHOT
1. Nothing But Rain

**CHAPTER 1**

Nothing But Rain

"Captain Unohana, in emergency care?" Shunsui blinked, "_Alive_?"

"Yes, Captain. Alive," Nanao said quietly, stepping into the gloom of the lounge.

"That's good." Shunsui's jaw clenched. Even Nanao could taste the dismay in his tone.

He laid back onto his sleeping mat, pulling his sakkat over his head and turning over once more to face the open door.

Rain pattered outside, tapping against the windows and hitting the outdoor decks. Mist came in, breathing against Nanao and dampening the floors. The sky was a stormy gray, boiling with dismal clouds and thunder. It was one of those afternoons where anything could happen at any given moment.

"Captain..." Nanao murmured, her eyebrows creasing in worry. There came no answer. "Captain," She repeated again, after a little while. Her voice couldn't help but waver. Still, there was no reply. "Captain, I've been meaning to tell you for awhile now. Um. The Head Captain has left a will behind..."

"Later rather than now." Shunsui muttered from beneath the safety of his hat. He was clearly still grieving for his late mentor.

"But-"

"Later. After I see Unohana and Kenpachi." The captain gave a mirthless laugh, his face looking unusually gaunt. "She sees a child in a grown man and an idiot in a... Well, an idiot." He joked wryly.

"Captain-" Nanao began tentatively, as if she were treading the patience of a hungry lion.

"_I said later._" He growled suddenly, his voice deathly low. He sat up from the mat, shooting her an icy glare through his remaining eye. It was an empty, dull brown.

A nearby sake bottle teetered over, spilling alcohol all over the bamboo floor. Nanao shot him a surprised look. She looked down at the floor, tears about to burst. She bit her lip, struggling to hide her disheartenment.

"I-I didn't mean-" She faltered, stepping towards the hallway door in panic, "I'm sor-"

"No, I'm sorry." Shunsui interrupted, filled with regret. His gaze eased into its' usual golden-brown. "I'm sorry. It's... It's not your fault. I apologize for losing my temper like that. Nanao. It won't happen again. Not again."

Her lips twitched. She almost wailed, and then stopped herself in the middle of it. She couldn't cry now. Not now.

"It's okay," Shunsui said gently.

She felt his arms encircle her as she half-sat, half-fell to the ground on her knees. A warm hand caressed her cheek. He held her close to his heartbeat; a steady _thumpity-thump_ that seemed to match the rain perfectly. For the first time, she could sense his fear. In her silent crying, she could feel his fear. She could feel his trembling. And more than anything in the world - his fear - made her scared. She hiccuped, pressing her cheek into his chest, where the skin was warm and course with muscle. Tears streaked down her face, slipping down her neck. One by one they came until, finally, the droplets became streams.

Nanao left in the early evening, her head buzzing with troubles. She felt numb. As she approached her assistant captain chambers, she felt eyes boring into her back. There was a sting in the nape of her neck.

She slumped to the side of the wall, her vision fading.

* * *

Isane stood by the bedside, pretending to arrange her captain's flowers. Her mind was elsewhere, stressing about other things besides lavender and cosmos. Her silver hair shined in the light, her gunmetal eyes exhausted after an uneasy, sleepless week.

Retsu stirred on the bed. Bandages plastered her frail-looking body: dressing her arms, wrapping about her legs, and stringing along her chest beneath a silken sleeping gown. Her chest rose and fell, giving Isane a sort of comfort.

The timid lieutenant stared at her captain with uncertainty. Her hands stopped arranging the flowers. Should she leave? Stay? Question? Be afraid? There didn't seem to be any reasonable way to bear herself. So instead, she did what she did best. She did nothing at all. And waited for her captain to come around.

Retsu's cerulean eyes opened to the sound of rain thundering on the roof. Isane's breath hitched as they became adjusted to the twilight of the room.

"Isane," Retsu spoke, her voice both strained and tender.

"Y-Yes?" Isane responded abruptly, as if pulled out of a trance. "S-Sorry? What?"

The older woman sighed, a serene smile alighting her face.

"You look very thin." She commented, using the bedside table for support as she stood. "How long has it been?"

"F-Four days," Isane stuttered. "K-Kenpachi... The other Kenpachi brought you up from the M-Mugen... And... And... I dunno. I thought you would like your own bedroom more than the H-Hospital."

"Isane," Retsu said softly, wholesome and sincere. "I thank you for your hard work."

"Uh. Um. T-Thank you!" Isane squeaked. "T-Thank you for... Uh. Erm."

"It's 'your welcome', Isane." Retsu chided gently.

"Y-Your welcome!"

Retsu smiled, a tinge of sadness on her face.

Isane smiled back.

There came a loud crash outside. Isane stood straight up at the speed of a bolt. Retsu's eyes widened as she rushed to the window, pulling it open with what little strength she had left. From the window, neither of them could get a good look outside. Rain was still beating against the roofs, a heavy mist hanging over the Headquarters.

Isane could vaguely make out the shape of the courtyard, along with several figures at the gate. There was a shout and then another boom.

* * *

"_MATSUMOTO!_" Toshiro screeched, his voice resounding throughout the Tenth Division Offices. "_Enough!_"

"But Caaaptaaaaiiiin," Rangiku pouted, huddling with a box of sweets on the couch.

Momo sat beside Rangiku, her hands on her lap and her knees close together as she smiled. "Haha, it's okay, Toshiro!" She quipped, absolutely beaming.

"This isn't the time to be screwing around, Matsumoto!" Toshiro said angrily, waving his hands in the air frantically, "And you, Lieutenant Hinamori... W-Why are you laughing at me? St-Stop, _laughing_ at me!"

"Ahahaha! I'm not laughing at _you_, Shiro-chan~!"

"For the last time, it's _Captain_ Hitsugaya," Toshiro groused. "Captain Hitsugaya."

"Don't be mad, Captaiiinn." Rangiku slurred lazily.

"I'm just happy that you two are acting almost normally again, even though... Even though..." She trailed off, her vision swimming dangerously. The lights quivered.

"Hinamori..."

The room tensed, as if waiting for something to happen. The ceiling lights flickered again. Then, the office was plunged into darkness. All was quiet.

"Captain?" Rangiku called into the dark, suddenly attentive.

"Matsumoto."

"I-I think it's just the storm outside," Momo explained. "Power loss." She groped about, getting off the couch and crossing towards the desks, "I'll look for some candles or flashlights maybe."

"Hehe, wanna play some _games_?" Rangiku leered mischeiviously.

"No," Toshiro growled. "Matsumoto."

"Be nice, Toshiro-kun!" Momo giggled, opening a drawer. Her fingers wandered over the various things: scissors, pencils, brushes, ink blocks, marble stamps, and finally... _Matches_. A loud creak echoed into the pitch-black office, followed by a scream. She looked up in surprise, as something pale flashed by.

"Captain!" Rangiku shouted worriedly as a clatter and a _thump_ sounded in his direction. "Captain? Are you there?"

"Where's Momo?" He replied, fighting to stay calm.

"He-" Momo began. A gloved hand clasped about her mouth as she let out a muffled shout. Her hands fumbled with the matches. She pulled a single match, her fingers searching for the rough sandpaper on which to strike it on. At last, she found it.

The sound of a match brought light into the room. Immediately, all the eyes in the room cast toward the figure; a quincy clad in dark blue. The intruder looked up in shock, and then, quickly, swatted the match to the floor. The flame flickered on the ground for a moment or two, and then flickered out.


	2. This Fire Isn't Ours

**CHAPTER 2**

This Fire Isn't Ours

His breath stopped.

Something had changed.

_Something_ was wrong. _Very_ wrong.

Shunsui sat up from his mat, throwing his sakkat aside and slumping towards the door. He pulled on his strewn sandals with insensible fingers and blurred eyes. There was no feeling in his body. It was better that way. He stepped out into the night, inhaling the cool, fresh after-rain scent. The moon hung high and bright and alone. For a moment, all he wanted to do was admire it. But he was missing someone to admire it with.

He turned for the gates, flashing off.

As he blew past the buildings, taking off for the roofs - the cause of his unease became impossible to miss. In the city grounds, directly beneath the slope, was a burning, roaring, fire.

Hope fluttered in his chest. Who else used fire of that kind of strength? Could it? No, it couldn't be. Shunsui realized the intention of the fire like a little bird landing on a live wire.

The inferno snaked through the streets (or at least what was left of them) with a mind of its' own, streaking for the First Division. Shunsui stood helplessly on the cliffside. One-hundred meters away... Ninety meters... Eighty. Fifty. Thirty meters. Ten.

It exploded.

To Shunsui, it was not just the First Division that had exploded. It was everything. Everything he knew had just exploded. Everything had just declared atomic war on his everything.

A nasty, acrid smell arose to his nostrils. He could smell it. Even from such a distance. It was like flesh blistering on a grill. Immediately, he wanted to retch. The air was absolutely thick with the same smell.

Flames crackled. Ash and debris blew across the courtyards and through the streets in a blanket of black. Buildings caved in, being eaten away by blazes illuminated as bright as day. The city was on fire.

_The city is on fire_, He thought. _The Seireitei is on fire_. _My home, is on fire_. By the time the screaming had reached Shunsui's ears, he was already on his way. Nanao had to be at her quarters. She couldn't be elsewhere, he convinced himself.

But inside, he knew, that she wasn't.

* * *

Her body was pressed to the side of one of the bookshelves, sweat inching across her collarbone. The uniform linens had gotten scratchy against her skin and she only desired to get outside, where there would be light. But Rangiku was being confined to the room. The quincy, she knew, was somewhere lurking in the dark of the library, waiting for her to come out. She hadn't the faintest idea where Hinamori or the Captain had gone. So for now, she would have to bear with the Quincy. Alone.

Her eyes began to adjust to the dark, and in it, she could make out traces here and there. She breathed silently, careful to maintain her heartbeat.

Something brushed past the bookshelf, and she froze. Her breath hitched dry in her throat. She inched in the other direction, determined to get as far away as she could. The floor moaned loudly beneath her feet. She winced.

Damn her weight.

_Must be my boobs_, she thought peevishly.

Someone knew she was there. Footsteps sounded somewhere far off behind her. Struggling to keep calm, she edged in between two bookshelves and curled up.

The room was deadly silent.

Then, looking up, a slim figure loomed over her. Faster than she could think - a hand enclosed her neck, clenching tightly around her windpipe and lifted her into the air.

"Stop!" She gasped, her hands clawing at her chokehold.

"_Stop_? _Really_?" Came a frigid voice.

Rangiku gagged. Her face became warm, derived of air.

_Haineko_... She thought desperately, her vision muddled. The zanpakuto would not answer her call.

Her arms dropped at her sides, limp and weak.

* * *

"_Go away_," Isane hissed furiously, her trembling hand on Itegumo's hilt. "Come an inch closer and I'll _rip your head off_."

"I do not doubt that." The quincy said calmly, his voice perfectly even.

"_Did you hear me_?" Isane snarled, drawing Itegumo. "Leave. _Now_." At once she recognized him as Jugram Haschwalth. He had one of those faces which she felt she could trust, if only he hadn't completely annihilated the Seireitei that other time - if only he hadn't set the city on fire this time. From the corner of her eye, she could glimpse the city burning to a crisp. The pandemonium of screaming men, women, and children reached her ears.

She adjusted her grip on Itegumo nervously.

"I cannot." He responded flatly, looking her square in the eyes. His were a clear, sky blue. His pallid, blonde hair grew down his shoulders, sopping wet with the earlier rain. His face was the spitting image of Captain Kuchiki, as was his stoic physique.

Isane readied Itegumo. The zanpakuto's blade glinted in the moon light. She was unsure whether she would be able to strike him down. And it seemed that her zanpakuto felt the same.

_You can't_, Itegumo chattered anxiously. _Just run away - stop acting so fierce. You know you aren't. There's nothing you can do._

_I haven't even tried_, Isane thought glumly. _I should try at least. Maybe_.

"Isane." Her captain's voice sounded by her ear. Isane whirled around, startled.

Retsu looked even worse in the moonlight. Her hands and arms were bony and unusually fine. Her skin was as white as the moon, drained of her usual color. It struck Isane that a wind could come and sweep up the captain like a leaf in no time.

"C-Captain..." Isane stumbled, searching for words. She shrank away.

Retsu ignored her, turning to Jugram. Her eyes narrowed maliciously, "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She said, looking absolutely daggers.

"I have come to retrieve your lieutenant," Jugram said dully.

"So honest." Retsu quipped. The captain might've sounded almost delighted, partially annoyed, or maybe even sarcastic. Isane couldn't tell.

"Of course." Jugram replied with a nod.

"Did you expect me to simply hand my lieutenant over?"

"Not at all."

"I see."

Isane bit her nails, standing in the safety of her captain's shadow. She felt utterly inept. She _was_ utterly inept. How could she have ever hoped to stand a chance? Not only couldn't she look after her captain, she couldn't help the Captain or protect herself either!

Isane peered up at Jugram and Retsu, downcast. They were having some sort of staring contest -sky blue and ocean blue scrutinizing one another. Jugram seemed to debating whether or not to slice her neck, chest, stomach, or legs. Meanwhile, Retsu was eying him the way a starving tiger would eye a trapped rabbit.

They both moved at the same time. Isane had to squint to discern their movements. Jugram darted around Retsu, trying to sprint for Isane with his enhanced Hirenkyaku. The Captain sped to the right, even faster than the Quincy. Her sandals skimmed across the courtyard floor. A kind of music.

Isane lost her breath. She was picked up and hurtled across the courtyard with such strength. The world flew underneath her in a haze. She closed her eyes, the ground grazing her feet. She landed. Beneath the pressure, she bucked. All to quickly, she tripped backwards clumsily, lost her footing, and landed hard on her back; rolling over the courtyard tiles with a painful bounce.

When she had regained her senses, she found herself hunched up against a garden wall. Pain shot through her like a bullet. She cradled her leg with her scarred arms. Her uniform was ripped. It hurt everywhere. She barely managed to lift her head. Her consciousness threatened to slip away from her, out of reach. Blood trickled from her head and down her back. It was sticky. And warm. Through half-lidded eyes, she watched two smudges attack each other.

By now, Retsu was dancing around Jugram like a sparrow - even as he strove to land blow after blow, he continued to miss, much to his chagrin. Captain Unohana was flawless. She was beautiful. She made even Jugram Haschwalth's noble proportions and perfect motion into nothing more than child's play.

Isane caught herself with her mouth open - her entire body trapped in both reverence Captain Unohana and her own, aching leg.

The Captain tugged Jugram's sleeve gracefully, propelling him into the quaking ground with a laugh. A wild, twisted smile unfurled across her face to which the likes of Isane had never seen. Retsu bent over his lean body, pulling out a scalpel.

In turn, Jugram grappled Retsu's collar, twisting about and flinging her into one of the courtyard's many cherry blossom trees. Her body cracked into one and felled it. Splinters and petals flew everywhere. Isane's expression changed to horror.

"_Captain Unohana_!" She tried to scream. But nothing came out.

Reishi amassed in Jugram's palm, forming the shape of a blade. He had, undoubtedly, grown serious. When the mess had cleared, Isane caught Retsu's figure, dragging herself out of the dust. Her arm was wrenched all the way about. Isane felt uncomfortable just by looking at it, imagining the pain Captain Unohana could be feeling at that moment.

Retsu, on the other hand, was indifferent. She jerked it forward with a harrowing crack and stood as if nothing had happened.

Jugram brandished his reishi broadsword. His footsteps resounded throughout the courtyard as he approached, breaking into a run. Retsu's hand was on her hilt, her sable hair blending into the night. The Quincy dashed toward the captain, wielding his sword with merciless eyes.

When they met, Jugram froze. A statue of stone.

Jugram hacked and coughed, as if to retch.

For a split second, Isane was confused. Then she saw. Captain Unohana was holding her hilt to Jugram's stomach. The Captain drew it out even more, until the blade glittered avidly in the moonlight. It slit across part of his uniform, ripping a his sleeve away.

And then something else happened. Jugram slung his arm forward. His blade sliced through the air. Came down. Hit. Shred. Blood. Fell.

_Sllllkkkkkk_...

The city din was split with a single voice. A single wail, echoing. And then cut short.


	3. Somewhere Off & Astray

**Chapter 3**

Somewhere Off & Astray

_ Not again... Not again..._ Toshiro mulled, unable to take his eyes off the space in the sky where there had once been a garaganta._ How could I let this happen again?_

_ Master_. Hyorinmaru said solemnly. _Master. Captain Rojuro Otoribashi is returning._

Toshiro looked up just in time to see the blonde-haired Third Division Captain frolicking down from the sky. His dance steps were sad and prepossessing, but ridiculously melodramatic. Toshiro suddenly had an insatiable urge to face-palm. Yet he saw in Rose's arms, Momo, unconscious but alive. He was flooded with relief. The weight on his midget-sized body seemed a little lighter now.

A half-scowl, half-grin graced his face as if he'd forgotten how to smile. "Captain Otoribashi..." Toshiro paused, wondering whether to thank him or to apologize.

"I have found thy fair maiden, brave knight, wherein quaint peace dwells!" Rose shouted at the top of his lungs.

Toshiro's smile dropped.

"Um, thank you," Toshiro nodded, his face a dark shade of pink. He forced another smile, still trying to stay polite. "Do you know where the rest are? My lieutenant maybe?" Somehow, he could guess how Rose would reply. He swallowed hard, preparing himself for the worst.

Rose's face suddenly grew very dark. His brown eyes glinted purple, shadows forming over his face. "Your lieutenant is lost," He said bluntly. "Captain Unohana is in her chambers, lamed by a saber. Her lieutenant is, too, still unaccounted for. Inevitable, I'm afraid. A half-dozen more officers have yet to be found."

"How about Captain Kyoraku?" Toshiro bristled.

"The new Captain General is reporting to the Central! _Silly_ silly Central!" Rose placed his hand over his face for another dramatic pose. In the process- he dropped Momo's head.

Toshiro flashed to catch her, and was about to berate Captain Otoribashi about being more gentle with the injured when the madman raced off, singing something about flower lilies and Kinshira's routines before battle. Toshiro watched him disappear, disgruntled.

With some effort, he carried Momo to the outdoor Infimirary, where Hanataro feverishly worked on healing her injuries. Toshiro found some comfort in watching her sleep. And after awhile, with the starless night outside, he too, fell asleep in a chair.

* * *

The whole of the Central 46 were insufferable people, concerned for only their safety and theirs alone. Shunsui wondered what he was doing there, to be standing there, right then.

"You may not retrieve them," The Twentieth Sage said shakily.

"The Seireitei would hardly be defended!" The Fifth Sage shouted. "How dare you even _suggest_ to leave!"

Shunsui exhaled, _Keep calm_._ Just keep calm_. He glared up at them, ever defiant. "And without them, what will you do? The entire city is destroyed. They didn't even spare the Fourth Division this time."

_ Why negotiate?_ Katen Kyokotsu glowered. _You should just pummel them all and be done with it. Go drinking. Chill._

Shunsui ignored her, waiting for a reasonable answer.

"We can't risk any expeditions." The Eighth Sage said.

"You can't give him the same argument again and again!" Shouted Twenty-Nine.

"Look," Shunsui said, raising his voice, "I'm not going to _ask_ for your _permission_ anymore. While you're busy squabbling, the rest of the Seireitei is dying-"

"That would be illegal." Several announced in unison.

"No, actually, it isn't," Someone said from higher up.

Shunsui followed the voice to the very top of the congregation. One of the six judges had stood up, a mask covering his face to hide his identity. "Under the jurisdiction of Central 46, I, the Third Judge, remove article 52 in favor of Head Captain Kyoraku Shunsui. Do I have any objections from the other judges?"

The other judges remained silent, dead to their surroundings. Shouts of protest arose from the sages. "_You can't do that!_"

Shunsui left without another word, glad to get away.

Cool, brisk night air blasted him in the face as he opened the large, iron door. He sighed loudly. The tension in his shoulders had been building up. He needed a break.

Jushiro met him at the outer-Central gate, directly across the bridge. His white hair blew in the wind, emerald eyes glowing. There were rings underneath them from lack of sleep. "How ever did you snake your way out so fast?" He asked, bewildered as he handed Shunsui some human-made chocolate.

"Thank you." Shunsui muttered. "One of the judges bailed me," He unwrapped his chocolate, biting a piece off and savoring the bitter flavor.

"Which one?" Jushiro inquired, frowning. "It's really not like them."

"Mmmmm..." Shunsui thought, trying to remember. "I forgot." He popped his chocolate into his mouth, his tongue sifting the wine flavor within it. "I do love their candies." He said idly.

Jushiro looked at him incredulously, then laughed. "That was hardy a minute ago!"

Several of the Central 46 guards stared at Jushiro belligerently, as if laughing was forbidden. He paid them no mind. Together, Shunsui and Jushiro began their walk home.

"You don't seem very worried for someone whose just lost his lieutenant to the Quincy." Jushiro commented, being rather insensitive.

"You don't either," Shunsui retorted. He knew full well that Jushiro was one of the people in the Goteï who was not afraid to push his buttons. "For someone who has lost his other friends to the Quincy."

"When do you plan to send off the Recoup Force?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"Wouldn't it be best to leave sooner?"

"I believe in them, Ukitake. Nanao is smart. With her, they can manage themselves for that long."

"I didn't say they couldn't. And yet, you'd have better chances to win them back with Kurosaki." Ukitake reasoned, looking off into the distance as the cherry blossoms floated to the ground, making the path look like it was covered in snow.

"I suppose..." Shunsui hesitated.

"You're lost, aren't you?"

Shunsui pressed his lips thin. "I dunno. I might be." He turned around, facing Jushiro. "You know what? Yes... I think I am lost, Ukitake... I am lost."

"You could have told me before." Jushiro said softly. "You aren't alone. You have friends. Just because you're the Head-Captain now does not mean that those ties have been severed."

Shunsui coughed, "Mm. Yeah."

"At any rate, Kisuke Urahara and his lot will be in the Hueco Mundo. So Nanao will be safe for the time being. I doubt the Quincy would have any means to do them harm. May-" The Thirteenth Division Captain stopped short. His eyes widened as if an idea had struck him. "_Hostages_."

"Come again?"

"Hostages!" Jushiro repeated.

"Man, you look so _fuzzy_ and _cute_ most of the time - but then you come up with these ideas that make me think again. Now it's _Hostages_." Shunsui snorted. "That would dishonor Yama-jii."

"No, no. We don't take hostages. The Quincy did."

* * *

Rangiku awoke. Her eyes faced the ceiling, where shadows flickered about, casting across the walls. The design was a sponged white paint. Somehow, it didn't register with Rangiku. Wasn't she in the Infirmary? But the feeling of being in a fluffy bed, made her feel at home. So no, she couldn't be in the Infirmary. She must be in her headquarters.

But a waft of unfamiliar incense brushed by her nose. It sprung to mind that she didn't have an incenses. Then, like a storm striking in the middle of a sunny day, she remembered the night in the library. The chokehold, the darkness, the figure, the crammed spaces, and the books... She touched her neck tenderly - and found it bruised, just as she had expected.

"You awake?"

Rangiku leaped up from the silken sheets, her cleavage springing with her. Her surroundings came to her like a great big _boom_. It was not the Infirmary she was in, and it was most definitely _not_ her headquarters either.

The bedroom she was in now was at least three times as big compared to her own bedroom. The walls were decorated with sandstone textures and golden motifs. Silken sheets and curtains were strewn about. There was a large, oaken closet across the room, beside a shining mirror and a table. The floor beneath was some kind of waxed, yellow stone. Candles floated in midair overhead, magically. There were about seven other doors with intricate patterns strewn across them, possibly leading to other places. It was all very beautiful...

...And it was all... _ridiculously tacky_.

"Hallo?" The same voice said again, in a tone that Rangiku found slightly irking. She searched for it. There, in the doorway, was a girl. She had a little braid of golden hair and wore a little white dress with a little blue pentacle sewn on her little shoulders. A quincy.

"Hi." Rangiku blurted, unsure of what to say. What _was_ she supposed to say?

"You're a shinigami, right?" The girl asked, looking suspiciously at Rangiku. When Rangiku looked back blankly, uncertain what to expect - the little tiny girl explained further, "You know, the bad guys who burned Äs Nödt?". She sighed exasperatedly as if Rangiku was the stupidest creature to walk the face of the earth.

"Yeah," Rangiku snapped. "but I'm not really a 'bad guy'."

"I know." The girl said, "Because ou look more like an old lady." She pointed to her head with one finger and stuck out her tongue as some kind of gesture.


	4. Sand & Spice

**CHAPTER 4**

Sand & Spice

"Sie sieht aus wie eine blutige Storch _- Gott, so dünn!_"

Isane stirred uncomfortably, heat encasing her body like a suit of armor. She was being taken somewhere. A hand supported her bare back, as she was lowered into water. Her naked body settled into a metal container of sorts, lukewarm water rushing over her body and washing away her sweat varnish. She shuddered.

"_Arme mädchen_..." It was a woman's voice, in a different tongue that Isane could not recognize. But it sounded like honey. It sounded compassionate, which was something that was universal. It was something that Isane could understand. That concerned tone that reminded Isane of her own mother from long ago.

"_Aufwecken Jetzt kann das Mädchen nicht ewig schlafen._" Another woman rasped. This one was not compassionate. It was old. Very old.

A sponge pressed against Isane's legs, scrubbing her skin raw. Cold, thick liquid splashed over her head, oozing through her soiled hair. She gasped, her eyes blinking open as an orange soap drizzled from her silver hair, and into the water licking at her shoulders. Fluorescent light spilled into her vision.

She was in a tin tub, inside a bathroom lit with such light and decor she'd never seen before. There was a gold and silver shine to it. Tiles decked the walls and floors. Ornate soaps and sponges lined the shelves, shedding a strong smell of spices and teas. Candles burned along another tub across the room, wax dripping down the sides. Flower vases were arranged here and there, adding even more color to the blend.

"Oh, wach, sehe ich." Isane then saw two women kneeled by the side of the tin barrel- the eldest washing her body forcibly. Her face was full of wrinkles, and her eyes, an intimidating slate grey. Her hair was as white as cloud, both fleecy and straight.

"_Sanft sein, _Mutter." The middle-aged woman said, sitting beside the older woman. They had a striking resemblance - only that the younger one appeared kinder in every aspect and that her hair was a pretty brunette. She looked at Isane with a beam, her mouth lined with straight, white teeth.

She said something, and somehow Isane managed not to hear.

"What?" Isane gaped, feeling awfully stupid.

"I asked, 'How do you do? My name is Henrike and zis is my mother, Kasimira.'" She said with a slight accent. Isane peered shyly at the old woman.

_ "_Hallo_, Gott des Todes_." Kasimira hissed, her face lit with an ugly sneer.

"Don't mind her." Henrike smiled, holding Isane's hand. "She is always like zis."

Kasimira gesticulated at her head with her pointer finger. "Dummkopf Mädchen." She coughed. Henrike shouted something in German, which Isane imagined to be insulting to Kasimira. Kasimira stood abruptly, spitting fire. As they began to get angrier and angrier, their shouts turned to blows.

Isane retreated into the safety of her barrel, terrified of the two women who were so obviously on their menstruation.

* * *

"How dare you..." Rangiku snarled, her face on fire. "_Call me that again and it'll be the last thing you say_." She stretched the little girl's cheeks, laughing evilly. She sat cross-legged on one of the couches in the Common Room, dressed in a white gown with sapphires embroidered at the edges.

The Common Room itself was a white, wide hall, filled with tables and different amusements. A lavish food and drinks table had been set up to the side, but Rangiku, upon finding no liquor whatsoever, had deemed the table useless.

There were about eight numbered doors on each of the longer sides of the Common Room. She suspected them to lead to bedrooms. Ikkaku had come out of Room 1, Yumichika from Room 2, and herself from 3 after being _assertively_ bathed by two attendants.

"_Stahpiiiiiiiiiiit, shinigamiiiiiiii~i~i!_" Anne cried, her arms flailing wildly.

"Only if you say sorry!" Rangiku snickered, stretching her cheeks even wider. Anne howled in pain.

"Would you two please be quiet?" Nanao glared, "I'm trying to read a _book_ here."

"Rangiku, stop that, it's _unbeautiful_." Yumichika said, flipping his hair in his way. He sat elegantly on a Prussian blue love seat - Ikkaku sitting on the other end.

"This is messed up." Ikkaku growled, looking out the window. It was the only window in the room- a large, thick frame of glass looking out to the desert. In the distance, Hueco Mundo stood tall, looming over the sea of sand.

It was just as Rangiku had remembered it a year before, when she had com

She stopped torturing Anne for a moment to take a look at the large, desert palace. _You'd think after so long it would have worn down some_... She thought. "Hey, Anne," She nudged the little girl, "Where are we? And why?"

"I-I can't tell you."

"_Tell me!_" Rangiku roared, stretching Anne's cheeks again. "Or else." She cackled.

"Nuuuuuuu!" The little girl whined.

"I have an answer."

All the heads in the room turned.

In the past week, Rangiku hadn't bothered to study the reports on the quincy. But she'd remembered the names. A burn of anger swelled in her chest, her cheeks reddening. Sure, admittedly, the Quincy weren't all bad. Anne was a tiny little girl, and although annoying, was actually pretty adorable. But Jugram Haschwalth was a different story.

"It's that Jugram guy." Ikkaku said with a smirk, cutting into Rangiku's thoughts. "I wanna fight 'im."

"His hair is beautiful, but it has no style." Yumichika remarked, flipping his hair.

Rangiku reached for Haineko, but found her waist bare. "Damnit." She surveyed the Common Room. _I can't use Kidô... There's bound to be more of them outside this room... Crap._

"Calm down, I mean you no harm." The pallid-headed quincy. "You are guests."

"What's that supposed to mean, punk?" Ikkaku scoffed, crossing his arms.

"Each of you will be working in different places." Jugram began in his usual monotone, utterly disregarding Ikkaku.

"Don't ignore me, you _son-of-a-bitch_!" Ikkaku bellowed, rushing at the quincy with his fists. Jugram side-stepped, sending the soul reaper crashing head-first into one of the tables.

"Rangiku Matsumoto will be assisting the Empress," Jugram continued. "Yumichika Ayasegawa and Ikkaku Madarame will be working in the indoor gardens, Nanao Ise in the library, Akon in the Science Wing, and Isane Kotetsu with our apothecary. You will be located tomorrow."

Rangiku had a need to gruesomely murder Jugram Haschwalth in her boobs.

* * *

Toshiro watched the clouds glide through the sky. It was such a beautiful day. Such a beautiful day for there to be trouble. He and Momo walked through the willow grove as a nice breeze blew past. The sound of construction was getting fainter and fainter as they went in deeper through the trees.

"Don't run off like that again," Toshiro muttered. "You scared me."

"Sorry." Momo said gently with a light smile. "But I didn't get taken away, did I?"

"That's not the point," Toshiro grumbled, a blush covering his cheeks. "Captain Otoribashi brought you back! And... now it's Matsumoto." His voice grew discouraged. "I have to get her back too now."

"Don't worry, Toshiro-kun." Momo said, determined. "You will get Rangiku-chan back no matter what. I know you will."

A smile almost beamed on his face, and then stopped just as his lips were about to curve.

"IT'S _CAPTAIN_ _HITSUGAYA_, DAMNIT!"

* * *

**Thank you for reading! If you liked this chapter, please review! X3**


	5. Cloud 4

**CHAPTER 5**

Cloud 4

Toshiro waited as the dust settled about the tower, gathered within a crowd of other officers. Momo stood on his right side, looking hopeful. Her captain, Shinji Hirako, was yawning profusely to Toshiro's left, staring at the giant tower that had just fallen from the sky and into the Court Yard.

"Joy!" He shouted sarcastically, throwing his hands in the air, "Let's see if the Palace Guard returned our friends in one piece, shall we?" He stalked toward the tower just as a blast of hot air blew him in the face, steaming from the tower door. "My hair..."

It came open with another hiss as several figures came out.

"Wait, big brother!" Rukia called, coughing through the mist as she came into sight.

The Kuchiki Head, Byakuya Kuchiki, walked forward, greeting Kyoraku with a nod. "Head Captain." He said, stoically. Toshiro was surprised to see him fully healed, as if the wounds from the previous battle had never occurred. Captain Unohana seemed to have noticed his recovery too. She eyed the Kuchiki almost resentfully.

"Welcome back, Byakkun!" Yachiru chirped. A pink fuzzball whizzed through the air, bounding toward his sleeve. He pulled it out of her reach protectively. She swept herself onto his back, pulling his earlobe, her eyes bright.

"Tch." Kenpachi looked the other way.

"I have been informed that several officers have been taken hostage by the Quincy." Byakuya dead-panned.

"Pretty much." Shunsui said, answering it as a question. "We weren't expecting you to return... so early. Is Ichigo with you?"

"No."

"Well shit."

"You don't say?" Kurotsuchi muttered. He had an unpleasant smile on his face- the closest thing to a frown he had ever mustered. A mix of groans, profanities, and cries passed through through the group. Even Shinji and Soifon seemed a little worried, Toshiro noted. His eyes observed each of their expressions carefully.

"Ya'll need ta _grow up_-" Kenpachi roared, "Stop crying like lil' brats and get your asses in Hueco Mundo already!"

"Kenny's right!" Yachiru peeped, grappling with Byakuya's nose. The noble looked vexed, but otherwise wasn't doing anything to stop the mini-lieutenant. "You should listen to Kenny, he's the strongest! Shun-Shun, Re-chan, everybody!"

Toshiro heard Kurotsuchi say, '_And the most idiotic too_.' under his breath.

"Yes ma'am," Shunsui said, saluting Yachiru with a smirk. "I have Central 46's authority. We will be sending Soifon, Unohana, Toshir-" Shunsui cleared his throat, "I mean, Captain Hitsugaya along with Lieutenants: Rukia, Momo, and Nemu." Shunsui listed the last three off with his fingers, gazing dreamily.

Toshiro caught Momo's name. A breeze blew past him, rushing along his hair and smelling of ash and death and decay.

_No, please, no_, he thought. _Why? Why this again?_

Momo looked at him cheerfully, unaware to Toshiro's worries, "We get to go together, _Toshiro-kun!_"

* * *

Rangiku listened to the fountain as it bubbled away. It was a grand, cement fountain devised from a carousal of nude, marble mermaids with colorful, glass scales, spewing water. As Rangiku stepped away from the fountain, her eyes became entranced by the floor mosaic surrounding it- a brilliantly colored collection of shapes and animals and quincy frolicking in a circle. And around the fountain and mosaic was a lush forest bursting with life, criss-crossed with little paths here and there to follow.

Plants, fruits, vegetables, and animals thriving beneath a glass roof. Some of them Rangiku had never even seen before. The scent was a wonderful- a fresh, earthy perfume with tinges of nectar. Drifting through the air.

It was a fountain in a forest, in a glass building, inside a sandstone palace, in a quincy city called Nirvana, in the midst of a desert- in another dimension.

It was the Indoor Garden.

_The Indoor Garden_. One of the Emperor's favorite places to be. Rangiku had already guessed that she was standing exactly where Yhwach had on numerous occasions. Just the idea made her heartbeat quicken, like the thrumming of wings in a locked cage.

She hadn't even realized how afraid she was until now.

What if playing with the little girl and pretending to be comfortable with the Quincy was just her mind's way of hiding what the real problem was? But she wouldn't even be able to acknowledge it if it was, would she? She considered it.

_I'm losing it_, She thought. _I really am_. And as she continued to ponder it, she soon found herself no longer alone. Footsteps echoed down one of the paved paths, coming closer and closer with every moment. _Am I drunk?_

Nothing registered. It had all simply frozen.

"What." She whispered. _What_. Her mind echoed. _Turn_. Rangiku had an urge to turn. _Stay. Do I want to stay?_ _It's not supposed to be like that. It's not. What wasn't?_

Her mouth went dry. Tension strung up in her legs, preparing to force her into run. So tightly. The strain. _Where should I go?_ She asked herself. Her teeth were biting against her tongue so hard that she could not. Even notice.

A metallic taste flowered in her mouth. _Blood_.

The ground swept up from beneath her feet, her stomach like a black hole about to explode into- _A cosmic rebirth of the universe. The beginning of everything and then nothing-but-that-isn't-the-point-is-it-because-I'm -going-to-be-dead-in-a-minute._ Sweat and heat and sultry and intensity closed in on her like a winter jacket.

"Hello." Came a voice. Ice spilled over her.

Was it a German-Quincy accent?

Not a German accent. Not a quincy's accent.

Not quite.

_Safe_. She told herself. _It's not a quincy_.

She opened her eyes. Her hands were on the floor, her palms over the belly of a mosaic whale. Locks of orange hair fallen in front of her. She blinked. She swallowed. And stood. In front of her, was, in fact, _not_ Yhwach. Not Jugram. Not Quilge.

It was an Empress. Rangiku could see why.

Her dress, no, gown, was a coffee brown over beige with what Rangiku recognized as a french design on her chest. A crest. Her hair a wavy dark brown to match her brown eyes. It was simple. It simply grew and rested on her shoulders, lustrous and... wet?

* * *

Isane didn't have many opinions about the Apothecary and his apprentice. Sure, she had _questions_. But after meeting the Apothecary, she had decided that it was natural for her - or anybody - to have questions.

The Apothecary, Howlestone, was a tall man, even taller than Isane herself, who wore a Black Death mask on his face and head for no apparent reason. He used sign language because his tongue had been cut off by someone. He had monstrous, long, oversized chicken legs wired in place of his real ones because they had been, well, 'bloody lopped off' as Wulf, the Apothecary's apprentice had put it.

Wulf was a lean boy who looked about two decades younger than Isane herself. He had hazel eyes and sandy hair with a smirk that somehow managed to annoy Isane, as unaggressive as she was. And because he wore a dirty mustard-colored shirt and trousers, Isane had mistaken him for being a sand dune the first time they'd met.

To say in the least, the Apothecary and the apprentice were an odd duo, but didn't seem even half bad.

"Here's the Hospital Wing." Wulf said with a twinkling smile, excited to be touring Isane throughout the palace. He opened the door with his gloved hands and they stepped into a candle-lit room, filled with windows. Beds aligned the walls, set right by the windows to give the patients a good view of outside. It was dark outside, so there wasn't much of one.

"U-Um," Isane began, feeling extremely dense. After she asked this question, the answer would be an unbelievably obvious one, and then she'd wonder why she hadn't thought of it in the first place. "If I can ask, why is it nighttime? The clock earlier said it was morning. So..."

"It's called 'Las Noches', meaning 'The Nights' in Spanish. This world is always dark by nature, but Aizen created an artificial sun that was supported by the Hogyoku. Now that he's imprisoned and in another dimension, the connection is weak. We have sunlight once every two weeks, and then it's always night time. Daytime hours or nighttime hours." Wulf explained.

"Oh." Isane said absently, trying to understand a word of what he'd said.

"So, anyway. We need you to heal one of the Quincy guys we have here. He's got third-degree burns and neither me or Howlestone can heal him. You use... Ehhh... Ki... Kidô, right?" Wulf wanted to know, idly balancing on one foot.

Isane nodded bashfully.

"Cool! I've always been curious what shinigami treatment looks like!" He pranced away, hyper with glee.

Wulf led her to one of the beds, where Howlestone had already begun treating. Isane walked to the side of the bed and grimaced at what she saw. The body was covered, with the exception of the face, legs, and arms. Along those members were large, black, charred, and swollen burns. They swelled from the skin like black roses, puss seeping from in between them.

Isane felt sick. She looked at the face as she dared. And there was no doubt in her eyes as she saw who it was.

The one quincy who had stolen Senbonzakura.

It was Äs Nödt. Thorn Knight of the Stern Ritter.


	6. May The Best Win

**Chapter 6**

May The Best Win

Isane ran her hands along the crusted black skin, careful not to scratch off his skin, which had begun to peel around the burned blotches. She quivered, her stomach churning. Being a doctor, she was used to this, but not used to _this_.

The burns looked more like some kind of unknown virus. Each of the blotches had _blossomed_ into black, brittle, rose-like patterns, thick and large. They were beginning to cracked, and between those cracks, Isane could see tender, red flesh, extravasating with puss and blood and something else Isane didn't recognize. There was only one person Isane knew could give anyone burns as unpleasant as what Äs had.

Äs Nödt let out a painful moan, his eyes shut in sleep.

"We put it to sleep because it hurt so bad." Wulf explained, his eyes growing wide.

_Why did he call Äs Nodt an 'it'?_ Isane wondered, still focused on the Stern Ritter's ruined body.

"Can you heal it?" Wulf asked. He was a shade greener.

"S-Sure, j-just give me a moment..." Isane said, her eyes unable to look away. She _wanted_ to, but she couldn't. "J-Just a moment..." Isane began. She stopped. Something surged in her gut, her body jerking forward violently. Wulf reached for a pail at the bedside, and she leaned into it, her face reflecting in the metal. An orange-carmine liquid spewed out, more slipping up her throat and out of it like a worm in a matter of milliseconds.

Howlestone, the Apothecary, came rushing forward to pat Isane's back and took the bucket, examining the contents. He exchanged a few hand signs with Wulf.

"Howlestone says that you need to eat." Wulf said tersely. "I'm sorry. We should have fed you before coming here. I'm really sorry. We'll wait before you heal him. You don't have to. Well, you have to. But not now if you don't want to. "

Isane coughed. "Nnnhh... No, I'll do it." She said, clenching her fist. "I can do it."

"Seriously, you need to eat." Wulf insisted.

"If I eat I'm just going to throw up-" Isane hiccuped. "-again. And souls don't need to eat anyway. We just need water." Isane lied. She could feel her ears going red. It was only half of the truth. Souls with spiritual pressure needed food. To be honest, Isane was famished, and the mention of food made her stomach feel like a desert. "Afterwards." She hiccuped again, "I will. Eat."

Wulf smiled, his tone impressed but doubtful. "If you say so, miss Kotetsu."

Äs Nödt was starting to cry out again, which turned to painful hitches in his breath. He writhed on the blankets, his bandages loosening. Isane went rigid. Two different forces of guilt crossed her mind.

_But he's dangerous. The Head-Captain sacrificed his life to destroy the Quincy..._

_ But everyone deserves another chance._

_ No they don't. _

_ Yes they do._

_ He should be dead._

_ But it's not what Captain Unohana would do, is it?_

Isane focused. She drew in deep breaths, drawing Kidô to her finger tips. And soon enough, her hands were glowing blue. She drew her palm across him hesitantly. She still felt guilty. After a couple of minutes the burns turned into an ashen grey. She wiped them off with a wet cloth, scratching to get the decaying crust and scabs away. When she had finished she looked over her handiwork, imagining how proud the Captain would be to see her new accomplishments.

_Captain Unohana_...

"You're done?" Wulf asked, checking Äs. "Wow. I want to be a shinigami." He almost sounded jealous. Afterwards, the quincy boy showed her how to dress Äs Nödt's wounds. The Quincy way. "You use this mix. It's lemon, mint, and alcohol- stuff they grow in the gardens. That plus a bunch of chemicals that some of the arrancar scientists make." He clarified when she'd examined a dark bottle he'd handed her. "Just pour it over its' welts."

"'Kay." Isane took the bottle, gently tapping it over the remaining contusions. A yellow liquid came sloshing out. Isane watched, alarmed, as the acidic concoction settled over the bumps and then began to bubble. "What's happening?" Isane asked, afraid that she'd done something wrong.

"You just leave it there. When we come back, it will be fine. Come on, let's get you something to eat." Wulf said assuringly.

* * *

There was a crash as the dummy hit the floor.

"No good." Yoruichi yawned, stretching her hind legs and then her front paws. "There's hardly any skill there and yet you insist on being called a captain." She snorted, settling down. "You aren't trying hard enough."

"I'm trying!" Toshiro panted, sweat dripping down his brow. He was beginning to get discouraged.

"Hit the _neck_." The cat slurred lazily. "Pick the dummy up, try again."

Toshiro put the wooden figure upright again, frowning. _What am I doing here? _He asked. Hyorinmaru listened quietly in the corner of his mind, his ice-scaled tail twitching._ She doesn't even care._

_You have to make her pay attention, Master_, Hyorinmaru rumbled.

Toshiro considered it for a moment. And then, without a second thought, he whirled around, flashing directly behind Yoruichi. He aimed at the black fuzzball at his feet. His forefingers arranged instinctively, his eyes sharp and cold. There was a _clunk_. The side of his hand hit the ground where there had once been a cat. He'd missed her. _Damnit._

"What's this now?" Yoruichi mewed, a distance away. "That was pretty damn close." Her golden eyes stared at him hard, observing every inch of him. "Fine. Good job."

"Can you... teach me to use Hakuda?"

There was a sudden cloud of pink, and a small _poof_. Yoruichi, the human-looking Yoruichi, almost looked pouty. She crossed her legs and arms, sitting down and staring at him sulkily.

Toshiro returned the glare, but then thought better of it. His eyes softened once more. "Please?" He begged. "I _have_ to. Before I go to Las Noches... I-I need to learn it." He peered back at Yoruichi, uncertain with what she would say.

The cat woman ogled at him for a couple of moments before guffawing out loud.

"_St-Stop laughing at me!_" Toshiro flushed, going frigid. "No one ever takes me seriously!" Yoruichi continued to laugh, making it unbearable for the midget-sized Tenth Division Captain. She choked, banging her palm on the ground as she hacked up a hairball, which didn't make any sense because she was now a shinigami.

She stopped laughing abruptly. "'Kay, gotcha." She said, pulling on her most serious face. "I'll train you. But that means _milk_."

"Milk?"

"Milk." Yoruichi confirmed, "You will leave milk out for me everyday. That is all. Deal?"

"O-kay?"

"Try that neck hit again. This time, tilt your hand upwards and jerk it back. Concentrate some reiatsu at the side to give it some _oomph_." Yoruichi said sternly, motioning with her hands. Her arm made the hitting motion, and tugged back smoothly.

Toshiro ran toward the dummy, clenching his teeth. At the last moment, his arm outstretched. The side of his palm, glowing white with reiryoku, impacted upon the dummy's neck. He jerked back and pivoted off his heel to face the dummy again, just a meter away.

But the dummy wasn't there anymore. It hit the ground, a clap resounding in the room. Yoruichi flashed to the wooden figure and picked it up. She held up the neck piece for him to see. There, on the edge of it, was a wide crack.

"Good job."

* * *

Rangiku followed The Empress about the Dining Hall. Hostile stares followed her wherever she went, and it seemed that the only person who didn't absolutely want to kill her was Marie D'Aubigne, the Empress of the Vandenreich herself. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable position to be in, for sure.

She felt horribly out of place and alone, clad in her white dress and sandals which didn't quite suit her in a room full of shinigami arch nemesis. Somehow their stares made her feel repentant. She stared at the ground, ashamed, and followed Marie's elegant footsteps. Whispers swam through the room in waves, causing her cheeks to redden in a deep shade of rosé.

_Leave me alone_, she wanted to shout. _It's not my fault I'm here!_

In the midst of her thinking, she heard a familiar voice. A narcissist voice. "Hey, Rangiku." She couldn't help but smile in solace when she looked up.

"Yumichika," She sighed.

The Eleventh Division Fifth Seat scowled, tossing his hair. "Hold your head up a little higher, Lieutenant Matsumoto. It's unbeautiful if you slump around in such a fashion. Follow me, everyone is sitting at a table." He turned around and sashayed off.

Rangiku followed, and this time, she held her head up high, her posture faultless. Several of the Quincy hissed at her. She shot them each a coquettish smirk, and joined her fellow shinigami without much more ado.

Ikkaku was staring angrily at something that wasn't there, his jaw busted and purple as he chewed on a piece of bread. Isane was quietly eating, ignoring Yumichika's beauty rants and forcing herself not to wolf down the food. For the first time in awhile, Nanao was not reading. She was obviously troubled, stuck pondering something important.

Rangiku pulled a chair and sat down. It was a circular table, covered in linen cloth, german antique tableware, and german cuisine. To her left sat Nanao, and to her right, Isane. She eyed each of their outfits, impressed by the Vandenreich style.

"Ugh, how unbeautiful that bruise is." Yumichika was saying.

"How did he get it?" Rangiku cut in, eager to catch up with the two Eleventh Division members.

"He tried to run away." Yumichika giggled.

"Shut up." Ikkaku growled. He elbowed Yumichika in the gut.

"Isane?" Rangiku asked. "So how are you?"

"Fine!" Isane squeaked. "I mean... Yeah, fine. The people I'm with are nice. So, fine. Yeah."

"There are a shit-!" Ikkaku shouted.

"Quiet!" Yumichika chided, grasping his jaw with his hand to silence him.

Rangiku felt a tap on her knee beneath the table cloth. She tuned out their voices, her eyes flitting to Nanao. Nanao's lip twitched. Rangiku reached beneath the table. Nanao's hand reached hers, and in the First Division Lieutenant's palm was a stylus and something that felt like a writing pad of sorts. Rangiku slipped it into her skirt. She watched carefully as the other three shinigami at the table received something too. They faltered in mid-sentence, exchanged looks with Nanao, and then continued with their conversations.

"You should eat," Nanao nudged. Rangiku looked across the table, looking at the exotic food wearily. Her stomach growled.

"Yeah, okay." She served herself some bread and soup on a platter. The flavor was odd to her tongue, bursting in her mouth like a firework. The soup had been prepared from some kind of meatball, capers for flavor, and potato with a white sauce streamed over it.

The moment she had swallowed her first bite, it seemed as if she had never been hungrier in her life. She devoured it in several minutes, breathing out in content. Now all she needed was sake. A glass tankard of something sparkly and yellow landed in front of her with a thud and a slosh.

"_You_." Came a voice. It was Marie, The Empress. Everyone looked at her in surprise. Marie pulled out a chair, slumping in beside Rangiku. "Drink on three."

"What?" Rangiku echoed, dumbfounded.

"I said, drink on three, _Gott des Todes_. Are you deaf?"

"Huh?"

"Don't pretend you don't know. Your bust and waist and cheeks mean zat you drink, no?" She didn't wait for Rangiku to answer. "_Elberich!_" She called.

A pencil-thin man came trotting along, holding up a large jug of yellow liquid. "_Dies ist Maximillian besten Apfelwein, Eure Hoheit_."

Marie turned to Rangiku, already pink in the face, "On three, _petite soeur_."


	7. Find Your Footing

**CHAPTER 7**

Find Your Footing

The streets of Nirvana were crowded with Quincy. A sea of them. There were so many that it was funny to think that they had once been nearly extinct. Her own quincy garb brushed against the other Quincy as she walked by. Each time, she grew more and more on edge. Pulling her trench coat tighter around herself, she hastily trekked after Wulf and Howlestone; Nanao's stylus and writing pad clicking against her chest through her upper coat pocket.

The sky was pitch black even though it was only ten in the morning. She still hadn't gotten used to the way the sky was never bright, and was curious to know how the city was sustained without sunlight. Ahead of her, Howlestone turned into the Main Street, the road lit with floating bits of blue reishi. They were like fireflies, flying in loops and lighting up this dark and beautiful world Isane had found herself in. Her breath caught in her throat, taken by the view.

She was standing on an arch-bridge crafted of fine-cut sandstone bricks, much like the rest of the city. In the distance, the fireflies lit up the entire city. She could see blue fire burning here and there, and an aroma of street food reached her nose. Somehow, it reminded her of home.

"C'mon," Wulf said in a whisper, tugging her sleeve. Isane leaned into the tug, reluctantly.

Several minutes later, they stopped in front of a large wooden building. Isane looked across the top, trying to read the sign. She could understand certain words, but otherwise, it was in some language, German or French, she couldn't read. Howlestone went in, leaving Wulf and Isane outside alone.

"Berlin Deutschland Internationale Exporte: Quincy Ast." Wulf translated, reading the sign. "It means Berlin Germany International Exports: The Quincy Branch."

"Oh. So y-you get supplies from the World of the Living?"

"If that's what you call the Human World, yeah." Wulf replied, "But we don't get _everything_ from there. Most of the food is grown on the outskirts, or in the Gardens."

"Mmm. C-Cool." She hugged herself tighter, a gelid breeze blowing past. It didn't seem natural for a desert to be so cold.

She leaned against the wall, wondering why Nanao had given her a writing pad and a stylus.

_ It's not even a pen. Still, it's not fair for me to judge my friend. She's working hard to try to get us out while I'm standing here useless... And..._ The guilt of reviving Äs Nödt still nagged at her. She bit her lip. _Why does everything have to be so frustrating? What did I do wrong?_ She stopped herself, taking a deep breath. There had to be a reason why Nanao had given her a stylus and a writing pad. She was positive. Positive.

_Hello_.

Isane looked around, searching for the voice. Wulf was idling in front of the Berlin Exports door. The street was completely deserted. It was only Isane and Wulf.

_Isane_._ Help me_.

"Itegumo?" She said under her breath, confused as to whether or not she'd gone mad. "Is that you?" She called, her heart brimming with hope.

"What did you say?" Wulf asked with a raised eyebrow. "Sorry I missed that."

"Oh no, I'm sorry, it was nothing." Isane apologized quickly. _Itegumo? _She held her fingers to her temple, listening intently for her zanpakuto.

_Here_. The zanpakuto whispered faintly. _Right_ _here_. He said again. And then his voice faded. For a moment, Isane froze, holding her breath and expecting the spirit to return. But he was gone. She searched for him desperately, her spiritual senses scouring the city for some sign of zanpakuto reishi. But there were too many other distracting presences, and none that felt anything like a zanpakuto at all. Her hope burst like a grape crushed underfoot.

"Are you seriously okay?" Wulf demanded.

Isane looked up with dry eyes, trying to push down the emotions that were beginning to well inside her. The homesickness, the worry, the longing, the guilt, the isolation, and the sadness. "Y-Yeah. I'm fine." She lied, clearing her throat. "Sick. I mean no, I'm not sick, just. Just tired."

_The zanpakuto are here, in Nirvana_, was her only thought as she returned to the palace with the Apothecary and his apprentice that afternoon, the sky as dark as ever.

* * *

Rangiku brushed her hair thoroughly, untwining the tangles. She could hardly complain about it. The shampoo, conditioners, and soaps here were prime, much better than at home. Even so, by using them, it covered the Seireitei scent caught in her hair. The scent of the cherry blossoms. The scent of the wind.

That and alcohol. Lots and lots of alcohol.

Not in a million years would she have guessed the Empress to be so proper yet so... perverse. She wasn't anything like Rangiku had perceived her in the beginning. Yes, she drank tea. Yes, she talked with a slightly outdated grammar. And yes, she wore fancy ball gowns. But, yes, she also had a second face beneath her genteel mask.

Needless to say, they had both gotten drunk at some point. The sparkling apple wine she'd consumed was rich, heavy, and incredibly tart. It was after about thirty minutes when she'd stopped counting. And then the rest of the night had been a blur. For three days, she'd been trapped in the routine hangover. Finally, she had begun to regain herself.

Rangiku blew out the candles and slipped into the large, king-sized bed in the center of the room; the cold, silken sheets sliding around her like water. And then she remembered. _The stylus and the writing pad_. She slid out of bed and rummaged in her soiled clothes. When she'd found them, in between the hems of her dress, she dove back into bed, sheltering beneath the covers.

Her brown eyes looked over the shining screen of the pad. It wasn't a writing pad after all. More like a sheet of smooth glass. She tapped it, curious to know why Nanao had bothered to give her such rubbish. She pulled the stylus out to tap it. The screen glowed for a quick second. Green text popped up all over it.

'Hello?' It read.

Rangiku paused, not sure what to expect. She touched the tip of the stylus to the screen and wrote 'Hi. Isit Nanao?'. Her words appeared in purple.

Blue text appeared. 'Yes. Where are you?'

'In bed. ;)' Rangiku scrawled, her text popping up right below Nanao's.

'Do you remember Akon from the 12th Division?'

'Ya.' Rangiku replied. She had a vague memory of him in her head. She'd seen him on numerous occasions- several times during the Reigai Invasion and once before the Quincy Raid.

'He's here as well. Being tested on by the scientists in the lower levels of the palace foundation. I checked the records in the restricted transcripts. Hold up, I have to go.'

Rangiku didn't have time to write back. A bang against her wall made her jump. She shoved the stylus and the pad in between her bed and the wall. It fell. _Clap_. Rangiku winced, hoping the screen hadn't cracked. She pulled the sheets over her head, closing her eyes tight. Her chest felt too tight for her fast beating heart.

Waiting... _Wait_. She held her breath.

Nothing happened. Nothing moved. Nothing breathed. Nothing stayed nothing. Rangiku sat up, looking to the wall directly across from her waiting to hear the sound again. She brought her stare to the door, watching the handle carefully.

Debris flew everywhere. Rangiku was thrown back, her spine hitting the wall. Pain shot through her body like an arrow, piercing her from every direction. Her sight had gone hazy, and nothing seemed quite the right shape, color, quantity, or size. She coughed heavily, her night gown torn at the edges. There was a ringing in her ears. Her arms lay limp at her sides.

"What...?" She moaned weakly. Her hair was yanked at the end, as her feet were brought off the floor. She screamed, the pain in her scalp unbearable. "_Let go of me! Let go-!_" She cried, tears spilling out of her eyes. She tried to kick at the assailant, her feet hardly even grazing him.

"Shaddup, _bitch_." He spat. And as she was thrashing about, she felt a heavy strike to her face. Her head went sailing to the side, her senses disoriented. Immediately, her cheek became warm. Overly warm. It stung. "Let's finish her off. And then there's three more to go."

"Let me do it." This one was female. "You can't enjoy it anyway. Stupid."

Tears had begun to stream down Rangiku's face. She pulled upward on her own hair to ease the pain, but didn't have enough arm strength to keep it that way. She blinked away her tears, squinting to see.

It was Bazz-B, the Stern Ritter with the mohawk, and Bambietta, her eyes shining with anticipation as she advanced on Rangiku. Two of the same Quincy she'd seen in the Dining Hall three nights ago.

* * *

Toshiro watched as Mayuri explained each of the human tools, his patience idling for the scientist's constant complaints about 'human rubbish'. Momo stood beside him, looking close to tears, while Nemu stood perfectly straight, unresponsive as usual.

"He simply _insists_ on using human _garbage_ for such a task! My tools are _perfectly_ suitable!" Mayuri fussed. "Anyway, since he's too dense to understand, I'll have to explain to you dimwits how the human nonsense works. This, yes _this_ _device_, you blundering idiots, is called _pepper spray_. And because you three are the weakest of you ranks, you'll need them. You know, if you don't die first."

Toshiro already knew how to use pepper spray. He tuned out while Mayuri continued with his rants. The lab was an ugly mix of all sorts of different colors. It was Akon's lab, as Toshiro had remembered. The four-horned man was a person that Toshiro had always remembered, though never quite engaged in a real conversation before. He was always seen checking statistics in this room. Yet he wasn't today.

When Mayuri had finished, Toshiro decided to ask; the curiosity biting at his mind.

"Have you seen Akon?" He asked, keeping his voice even and calm.

"Oh what am I, _attendance software_?" Mayuri spat angrily as he stormed away.

"You'll have to forgive him, Captain Hitsugaya." Nemu said in her usual monotone.

"Sure." Toshiro blanked. "When do we leave again?"

"Due in a week." Nemu replied.

_Seven days left_.

* * *

_**A/N**: Just really quick, this story will be on **HIATUS** __this Sunday, August 18th. It will start again Monday, August 19th. Thank you for reading and please review! 3333_


	8. Into The Dark

**CHAPTER 7**

Into The Dark

Rangiku felt a sharp jab in her leg. She shrieked, trying to twist free of Bazz-B's grip. Bambietta, shook the knife in her leg. Rangiku's hands clenched, tears flooding her face as her tendons cramped up around the sharp edge, like spongy wood around the blade of a carving knife.

"_Make her stop!_ Make it..." She faltered, sobbing. Tears and sweat and pain covered her in a thick film. Suddenly, her chest tightened. Bambietta teased her bleeding flesh with the tip of her knife, a smile on her face. It was the smile of a fascinated child, about to discover something new. The blade gently dabbed into her tendons, a prickling sensation in the gash. A streak of warmth rushed down her numbed leg, running in between her toes. There was a fast thrust.

Rangiku's scream cut through the air.

"_Hurry up!_" Bazz-B snarled. "There's others-"

Rangiku heard him cut off, the crack of a bone resounding in the room. She caught her breath, her tears still flowing uncontrollably. Out of the corner of her eye, a fist had landed on his face.

"_Damn right_ there are," Ikkaku snapped, cracking his knuckles in contempt. "That was payback on my part." He growled, pointing at his bruised jaw.

"Fuck you!" Bazz-B spat. His grip on Rangiku's hair loosened.

The blade in her thigh was pulled out as Bambietta stood up. "_Company_." She smiled.

Ikkaku flashed in front of Bazz-B, landing another punch right beneath his jaw. The Quincy's head flew up, cocking backwards in a single motion. His arms flailed backwards, his fingers slipping off of Rangiku's hair.

She scrambled away, her leg bleeding profusely. She tried to stand, but stumbled backwards once more. Yumichika came to her out of nowhere, stepping in to help her. She leaned on him, half-staggering, half-crawling.

"Let's go." Yumichika breathed. "Oh how _unbeautiful_."

"Get moving!" Ikkaku shouted over his shoulder, just as Bazz-B kneed him in the crotch.

Bambietta sprinted beside them, slipping beneath Rangiku as she limped and twisting her over. Rangiku landed heavily on the end of her spine with a thump. She winced.

"I don't think so." Bambietta hissed, tilting her blade over her shoulder, she brought it down on Yumichika, who dived to the side, his braid chopped off.

He froze for a moment, his hair falling to the ground- the fine threads strewn about. His eyes widened for a few seconds, and then narrowed. Shadows covered the top of his face.

"How dare you..." He began, his voice deathly low. His gaze flicked up. "-_Cut off my hair_!" His violet eyes grew vibrant with hatred, "You _horrendously ugly_ nazi-whore of a Quincy!" He screamed, his voice like that of a two-year-old. "I hope you ass-face of a mother still loves you, you_ son-of-a-bitch! There-_"

Bambietta zipped to the side brandishing her reishi sword into his side. His clothing ripped, and beneath it, his skin- scathed and red with a strip of torn flesh. She dove beneath his arm as he threw it out to strike her throat. Before he could move again, she sank the blade into his shoulder, keen to leave it inside. He moaned in pain, holding a hand to his stomach laceration. His eyes still boiled with abhorrence as he sank to the ground.

Another blade molded in Bambietta's hand as she whirled around, stalking toward Rangiku who lay against the wall. The shinigami looked up, her eyes blank. What was she feeling? Was it pain? Was was she supposed to feel? Bambietta drew her foil at neck-angle, prepared to strike. Rangiku looked up helplessly.

_I am going to die._

The thought echoed in her head. And she didn't struggle. She didn't react. It elicited no reaction from her body. Her spirit didn't struggle. Nothing struggled. Gin and Kira were gone now. Tired of struggling.

Perhaps it was for the best.

There was a wretched shriek. Rangiku peered up, surprised. Reishi Claws had taken ahold of Bambietta's trembling head, her eyes wide with fear and agony. "No, _please_..." She begged, her voice shaky. "_Stop_...". The claws tightened around her head. Her eyes bulged.

Rangiku looked up at the Quincy in a daze, a tinge of pity eating at her heart. Effortlessly, the claws threw her aside. Bambietta flew into the bathroom wall, cracks splintering around her like a spider web. Rangiku studied the silent figure as he turned his head, his stone black eyes pinning Bazz-B.

Bazz-B gave him a look of disgust as he held Ikkaku's neck beneath his arm, the subdued Third Seat hanging limp. "This is for the Quincy. If you can't help us, Cang, you're just a coward like the rest of those fuckers."

Cang Du did not respond; his lips were sealed, his eyes blank, and his expression plain. Reishi gathered at his fingers, forming into razor-sharp claws. He strode up to Bazz-B. Rangiku watched from afar.

"No, stop!" Rangiku rasped, watching in horror. "Leave him alone, _please!_" She begged.

_Slice_.

The thumping in her throat had become so painfully fast. Her mouth dropped open to scream. But she couldn't. Her mouth was coarse and dry, as if she had eaten a ball of chalk. Now everyone was gone. All her friends. Kira and Gin and Ikkaku were waiting in the next life. The life of the living. _How did it get so bad? When did it get so bad?_

Bazz-B dropped to his knees. A claw mark scratched across his chest. Cang Du reached down, pulling Ikkaky roughly to his feet.

Rangiku's breath hitched. _He's okay... _She said inwardly, unable to explain her own foolishness. A wave of nausea hit her, her head inclining downwards. There was a strange and unfamiliar feeling of emptiness in the very pit of her stomach.

* * *

Isane dug her glovedfingers within the gash, pulling out shards of reishi in Rangiku's thigh. The blonde-haired lieutenant was lying unconscious on the center Common Room table. The commotion had woken up half the palace. Quincy were roaming about in the hallway, gathered around the door to the Common Room. The Stern Ritter were gathered around inside, the Emperor nowhere to be seen.

Isane continued working, her ears open to the conversation spilt in the room.

"Bazz-B and Bambietta have betrayed His Majesty. Such is punishable by death."

"If you ask me, bastards totally deserved it. What is the Council thinking anyway? Having a bunch of _their kind_ roaming around here like it's nobody's business?"

"Traitors can go fuck themselves."

"It's the middle of the night and you expect me to be smiling."

"Only His Majesty can have an explanation."

"Shut up- What they did was completely reasonable!"

"I don't like it."

Isane tore off the gloves, covered in blood. Her hands glowed a sickly green as she closed up Rangiku's wound. Thoughts bombarded her mind, and all she wanted was a moment of peace. _Where are the zanpakuto? Why did this happen? When will the Goteï come for us? Will they come for us? Are they?_

"What a quick finish." A Quincy regarded her suspiciously. Isane whirled around. His hair was a pale blonde, his eyes a dull brown. Isane had remembered Nanao talking about him over dinner the previous night. It was Maximillian Lie, the librarian.

She regarded him with a quick nod. "Hi." She said awkwardly.

Isane hurried to her bedroom, aware of the eyes boring into her back. She slid into bed, just about ready to go to sleep. The rest of her fellow shinigami had already turned in, but she checked the glass pad that was lying beneath her pillow anyway, twirling the stylus in between her fingers. It dropped clumsily, bouncing over the bed and as she reached over to pick it up, the glass surface lit with text.

_Tomorrow night_. It said.

Isane peered out the window, and very faintly, she could sense the presence of her zanpakuto stirring. The soreness of sleep was nibbling at her eyes, dragging down her eyelid. But the tug of Itegumo was stronger still. There was one goal. Only one. _Find the zanpakuto_.

She crept out of bed, her feet grazing the tiled, sandstone floor. She peeked into the Common Room. It was ominously silent. The Quincy had already gone back to sleep. Inching the door open, she slipped through. The door lay wide agape. As silently as she could, she tip-toed toward the Main Door, unaware of another.

She ran down the pitch black Main Hall, silhouettes looming around her like the trees in a wood. The presence grew stronger. And then she heard a voice. It was hostile and angry. Like a close friend wronged by another.

"What is the shinigami hostage doing out of bed?" Wulf asked.

She turned around, dread drowning her over from head to toe. "I'm hungry." She blurted.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure."

"L-Look, I..." Isane trailed off. Really, she didn't have an excuse.

_He's my friend. Why am I doing this?_

_But, no, he's a quincy._

_He was so kind..._

_What would Captain Unohana say?_

Isane locked up, confronted by her two voices. Then, unable to stand it- she ran. She sprinted down in the other direction, unable to face the mess she had thrown herself in. She bumped into a table, dove beneath it, clambering down and under and then right back up again. Wulf's hand grappled at her night gown. She whisked around, ripping off the hem. He fell behind, tripping over with an _oof _and then a _clatter_.

"_Stop!_" He screamed. "Come back!_ Or else I'll wake up everyone!_"

Isane did not hesitate. She hastened on, making a detour to get to the zanpakuto she was still sensing. Several minutes later, she found it. Or rather, she _ran into_ _it_. Face on. She held her bleeding nose, applying a healing Kidô as she groped around, trying to feel what she had bumped into. The Kidô provided a little light. And then she realized what she had come into. She was in the Hospital Wing. The door was the door to the laboratory.

And it was locked. She twisted the handle, hoping, each time, that it might magically unlock. Driven crazy with hopelessness, she slumped against the wall. It was faint, but she could hear voices. Wulf had kept his promise. He had woken up the palace.

"It seems at times like these, I seem to be the most helpful." Came a voice. Isane looked up from in her hands, and spied a rising figure.

"Ä-Äs Nödt?" She asked in a mix of hope and fear. It certainly was his spiritual pressure.

"Yes." He replied.

"It's over." She whimpered. "I've lost. I've failed everyone. I was meant to fail."

Äs whisked by her, a soft breeze blowing by her. "It seems that I owe you a debt." He dead-panned. "Better paid now than never."

There was a clunk in the darkness. Isane heard a creak as the door moaned open.

"Go on." Äs spoke vacantly. "The others will be here shortly."

"Th-Thank you." Isane stuttered, tears in her eyes.

He was gone.

Isane went through the doorway, shutting the large, iron door as she went. She was surprised to find an uneven staircase beneath her feet and went tumbling down it.

Into

the Dark

W a y

D

o

w

n

Below.

* * *

Toshiro's feet landed in the sand. Captain Soifon behind him, then Captain Unohana, Momo, Rukia, and Hisagi after her, who'd come as back-up. He drew his zanpakuto, already into battle-action. The desert was void of life, but even so, Captain Unohana warned him, her voice serene.

"Keep alert. There are enough Vasto Lorde roaming here to match the Goteï on par."

The rest of the officers kept their hands on their blades, their eyes sharp.

Rukia drew out a scroll, dragging it across the sand. Moonlight reflected off the sand and the map, just light enough for them to read. She opened her mouth to speak. "Aizen's Palace is over here. It's a day's travel from here on foot." She said, her voice deadly serious as she pointed to a bunny-version of Aizen standing on a child's scribble of a castle. "And here, is Nirvana, another day's travel from the Hueco Mundo palace. Altogether that's two days." She explained, pointing to a picture of Uryu. "Any questions?"

There were none.

Toshiro had one query lingering on the edge of his tongue which was along the lines of 'why do your drawings suck so much?' but decided it was better not to ask the Kuchiki noble. Rukia took the scroll, rolling it up back in the way it had been, stored it in her robes and led the way. Only one thing was certain to Toshiro.

It would be a long trip.


	9. Edibles

**CHAPTER 9**

Edibles

Toshiro kept his eye on the Hueco Mundo dome as the party passed by. He slowed to the end of the group, observing the ruined palace from afar. It whizzed by, shining its' many colors in the moonlight.

"We have to stop." Rukia said abruptly, skidding to a halt. Captain Soifon and Unohana stopped beside her. Soifon was obviously irritated, while Unohana looked practically indifferent.

Toshiro eyed the others, sure to check Momo as well. The lieutenants were getting tired, no longer able to keep up with the Captains. He sighed. At this rate, they would never make it in another day's time. What irritated most was that he could literally _see_ Nirvana. Yet no matter how far they went, it never seemed to grow bigger.

_Patience_. He chided himself. _Know only patience_.

"Shouldn't we take shelter in the ruins, Captains?" Hisagi asked, struggling to catch his breath as he leaned on a large, colorful stone - a fallen piece of the palace. "We'll burn up in the sun... That's all I'm saying."

"Yeah..." Momo panted heavily in agreement. Her frail body was worn and sweaty, her skin creamy in grace of the moon. But the look in her eyes shone brightly despite everything. "If that's okay."

"We should stay together though." Toshiro cut in. He looked at the ruins wearily. It seemed as if the crumbling palace was staring back at him, waiting for him to fall into a trap. Oddly enough. An uneasy feeling churned in his gut. "No one is to be alone." He added, still training his eyes on the structure, lost in thought.

Captain Unohana frowned, peering up at the palace as well. She had felt something too. A cild wind breezed by, bringing along promise of a sandstorm. After a moment, she turned gracefully, giving gentle directions to each of the shinigami. Soifon tsked loudly, displeased with the low level of capability the lieutenants possessed. Toshiro exchanged a scowl with the Second Division Captain before ushering Momo away.

It didn't take long for the lieutenants to find a place to shelter. Several meters from the palace was a half-buried wall supported by other upturned walls. They formed together, melding a cave. The stone was bright and vividly-colored - unfitting to the desolate desert. Toshiro couldn't help but be relieved. He was beginning to worry that they would need to shelter inside the Hueco Mundo palace. Being so close to the damned place was already putting him on edge.

The group gathered inside, Hisagi working on a small fire. Toshiro sat in the very corner, where he was farthest away from the warmth.

"We'll start again in an hour." Captain Soifon said impatiently, standing up and pacing.

"I'm afraid we cannot." Captain Unohana said benevolently. The lieutenants sighed, thankful to have Unohana defending them. "We are in no shape to storm a city flourishing with Quincy. We must delay until the lieutenants are fit. Tomorrow morning we may depart. In the meantime..." Captain Unohana rummaged in a Fourth Division medical kit, pulling out a pan.

Hisagi's eyes nearly popped out of his head. "How?" He asked in astonishment.

"I _convinced_ Captain Kurotsuchi modify its' dimensions as a favor. Lightweight. Efficient." Captain Unohana smiled, quite pleased with herself.

A shiver ran down Toshiro's spine. He had an strange feeling that the senior captain hadn't just 'convinced' the stubborn Twelfth Division Captain into helping his rival. But there was another unease as he thought this.

He stepped outside, taking in the fresh air to his lungs. His eyes wandered along the horizon. There was Nirvana in the distance, and then nothing, and then after that, only several meters away from where Toshiro was standing, the ghastly Hueco Mundo palace. Aizen's palace. Alone, in the dark, the palace looked much more menacing. He still had the feeling that someone, or something, was watching him from somewhere in the ruins.

Just waiting.

Just waiting to tear him apart.

"Toshiro-kun!" Momo called a few minutes later, peeking around the cave opening. "Captain Unohana made some Oyakodon! Come inside." She tugged at his sleeve, pouting. "Come on!"

"Okay, okay." He said with a frown. He looked over his shoulder, and followed her inside.

A large fire was burning in the center of the shelter, wafting out through the large, open cracks in the low ceiling. Unohana was broiling a deep pan above the fire, her cheeks slightly pink with the heat. The wonderful scent of Oyakodon came up his nose. Momo handed him a bowl full of the dish - inside scallions, eggs, chicken, and leeks stirred in brown rice and soy sauce.

Momo was tearing up terribly, letting out a loud wail as she stared at the dish.

"Hinamori!" Toshiro growled, half-annoyed and half-concerned. "Why are you even crying?"

"S-Sorry. I-I haven't eaten this since my mommy made it for me." She sniffled, taking an adorably teary bite. "Thank you, Captain Unohana."

Captain Unohana nodded, "You're very welcome."

By the time Toshiro had finished wolfing down his food, Momo was already fast asleep, curled up in the corner on top of a desert poncho. Toshiro rested his head on the ground, his ear to the cold floor. He took his poncho out, pulling it over his body and facing a crack in the wall as he tried to clear his mind.

The only difficulty was... through the crack was the Hueco Mundo palace, in complete ruins. Still staring at him. It seemed as if it'd gotten closer.

_No. I'm being childish._ He scolded to himself. _I just need some sleep. That's all._ He rolled away from the crack, however in doing so made him even more overwrought. Yes, he would prefer to keep his eye on the ruins. He turned back towards the crack, watching intently.

After awhile, he grew accustomed to the looming building. And slowly. Slowly. His eyes. Shut.

There was a tremendous boom. The entire shelter shook, half of the ceiling threatening to collapse. Captain Unohana sat up, her hair loose and slightly ruffled. Momo groaned tiredly, rubbing her eyes as Soifon drew Suzumebachi instinctively. Hisagi was already up, pulling Rukia to her feet. A sharp wind blasted into the cave, blowing sand onto Toshiro's face. He blinked sand out of his eyes and spat to the side, a mouthful of sand on his tongue.

He fumbled for Hyorinmaru in the light of the fire's last coals, and scurried outside. The sand had been disturbed by something. Printed on the sand, like ink to paper, were two, gigantic talon marks. Toshiro soon saw why.

Flying in the sky, staring at Toshiro like a bean pastry fresh after steaming, was a huge monstrosity. It was a mix of an owl, a peacock, a lion, and other things. Its' neck was abnormally long - a string of incredibly thick neck bone with skin growing over it in a thin layer. Its' wings and armor were of silver, bronze, and gold. The humanoid mask on its' face was blank, but reminded Toshiro of an owl's face.

Oh. And did I mention?

It was gargantuan.

Perhaps around thirty upright Toshiros, head to toe, could be stacked on top of each other to just barely match the giant flying chicken's height.

"A Vasto Lorde?" Captain Unohana gasped, watching the thing bat its' large, bronze wings of armor. Toshiro thought he could detect a tone of wonderment in her voice. Excitement... Desire. He shook his head. Sand blew into his eyes as the Vasto Lorde beat its' wings again, slowly twisting its' head at unusual angles and observing the shinigami down below.

"Out here?" Rukia asked incredulously to no one in particular, wiping her face as she looked at it in horror. Her hand went to Sode No Shirayuki's beautiful hilt immediately. "Out here." She echoed, as if to answer her own question.

"We need to get away from this spot, it's coming around." Hisagi said calmly, unsheathing his zanpakuto. "_Reap_. Kazeshini." The blade reformed, now much more menacing than before. Its' Kusangama-like weapons glistened. "Pray to Izanagi that she doesn't take your soul today." He joked, before throwing one of the scythe blades upwards. "Get to a better position, I'll handle this!" The large bird caught it with a talon and landed, forcing Hisagi to get pulled by Kazeshini's chain while wind blasted sharply in the other direction. A wave of sand washed across Toshiro, filling his clothes with the scratchy dust.

Toshiro readied Hyorinmaru, signaling the others to move to the left. Hinamori stayed behind, backing him from six meters off.

"What are you _doing_?" He called. "It's not safe-" The Vasto Lorde's scream interrupted him, its' mask removing itself to reveal a large throat lined with teeth. The entire neck _was_ its' mouth. Toshiro felt something warm seep out of his ears - his eardrums nearly ready to explode in the din.

"_I'll_ decide when it's safe for me or not!" Hinamori shouted over the noise, covering an ear with her free hand. She had an especially determined expression that Toshiro had seen on several occasions. Toshiro simply grinned, pushing away the apprehensive stir in his gut.

_ Yes she's right_. He thought, loosening his shoulders. His cold, blue eyes traveled up the Vasto Lorde's body. "_Ban-Kai_."

Hyorinmaru shook.

Nothing happened.

_Crap_. He had finally remembered. Of course Hyorinmaru wasn't working - he'd lost Hyorinmaru's Bankai to the quincy during the last battle. He bit his lip, disappointed, and dodged to the left just as the hollow flung downwards with its' long, bony tail. Toshiro flash-stepped up close, attempting to get at the chest.

A moment tossed by, panic rising in his chest. He scanned the chest and caught a notch in the bronze armor. Without a second thought, he rammed Hyorinmaru's blade into the beast. "Reign upon the frosted heavens, _Hyorinmaru_." He whispered. Ice blasted out from the hilt of the foil and into the crack between the armor plates. He gritted his teeth, twisting viciously.

The armor plates pulled apart, and the flesh inside with it. The Vasto Lorde screamed. Out of the corner of his eye, Toshiro saw something else coming for him. He gave his zanpakuto a tug - but the blade would not budge. _Not now_. _Please_. The bird's large talon yanked at him like a leech, his grip on his soul cutter plainly jerked off. A tendon in his arm was pulled. And then he felt it.

Slowly, the Vasto Lorde's sharp nails began to dig into his sides. He was lifted into the air by the talon, wheezing and gasping for air. Somehow he felt that half of his chest had collapsed inwardly. The hollow raised him midair, right above where its' would open.

"_Toshiro!_" Momo screamed, "Snap, Tobiume!" Her blade shifted, lighting afire. A blazing ball of fire shot toward its' chest and boomed. "Hch." She coughed as the beast began to stand on its' hind legs. It stepped over her, its' claw directly on her chest. She screamed, cracks sounding in the desolation.

"_No_... Stop! _Leave her alone_!" He croaked, the taste of blood blood weighing at the back of his mouth.

"I am the hollow who will eat you, _soul reaper_." The Vasto Lorde hissed, its' mask slowly opening. Inside the throat, Toshiro noticed that each of the rows of teeth in its' mouth were rotating in a circle. He would be grounded into a pulp. "Angelique is my name. Remember it well." The beast laughed.

With that - the talons around him released.

He

Dropped.

There was no way to get footing in the air at that moment.

He was like a fairy without wings.

Pain came to him from every direction. He dug a foot in between the rows of teeth. "Don't take me lightly." He breathed. "_Momo_!" He screamed. But it was much too slippery. And without the assistance of his zanpakuto, there was nothing he could do. His shin was split wide by another row of rotating, spinning circle of teeth. His arms went limp, bloodied and cut and disfigured.

As he reached the end of the throat, he slid off the side of it. Muscles clenched around him and sucked him down in a swallowing motion. Toshiro somersaulted backwards, down the throat and into the dark of the hollow's stomach.

_Splut-Splash_.

* * *

Rangiku leaned against the chair, already feeling tipsy. She hoisted her heavy tankard to her lips, tipped it a little, and then cocked it entirely like a pro. The ale washed down her throat, burning down her throat with a hoppy bite.

Marie D'Aubigne, the Empress, had already finished. She stared at Rangiku with a benevolent smile, a light dust of pink on her cheeks. Compared to earlier, she looked slightly more casual. She wore a frilly blouse tucked into stylish black pants with a classy boot cut. Rangiku, on the other hand, was wearing what the maids had given her earlier in the morning - a ridiculously old-fashioned flapper dress sewn with the traditional white and blue Quincy colors.

_It's too comfortable to be stylish_, Rangiku pouted inwardly before turning her attention to the Empress. She tried imagining the best way to stir up some conversation. But what exactly was she supposed to say? She cleared her throat, the sacred breath of German beers drifting out of her mouth. "You don't look very German. Your Highness." Rangiku began boldly.

"I am a Frenchwoman." Marie said courtly, her 'r' rolling slightly. She raised her chin a little higher. Rangiku couldn't help but envy her. Her accent, her hair, her eyes, and her sexy but noble posture. She was like a combination of Byakuya, Unohana, some of Rose's weirdness, and, well, a little bit of Rangiku's charming flairs too; if she could say so herself. It was a bizarre combination, and yet the Empress made it fit so well together.

Marie called forth a servant from the door. She said several words to the maid that seemed to curl and sway beautifully off her tongue. The servant returned several minutes later with two dishes of _Pot au feu_, which, as Marie had explained, was a classic French food. Rangiku found the flavor rather strange. The closest thing she had ever eaten to it was a western-eastern, soup-like curry that Sasakibe had served at the Victory Banquet.

"Oh sorry. Why are you here then?" Rangiku asked, turning the silver knife in between her fingers. Compared to chopsticks, the western utensils felt clumsy and alien in her hand. "I mean... No offense, but French?"

"None taken. The majority of the Quincy is German, French, and American. In addition, there is a small percent of Asians and Turkish. We don't have a native language, but rather, several. French, German, Japanese, English and Chinese. A few who know Latin." She explained, slicing up some of the meat on her plate.

"Oh."

There was a silence. When both had finished eating the courses (there were four in total, all of which Rangiku found too strong in flavor to finish, as small as the servings were) and the table had been cleared, The Empress asked casually, "Where do you wish to go?"

Rangiku didn't know how to answer at first. "In a bar." She said after just a moment of contemplation.

"But not here?"

"No." She said honestly. "I don't think so."

"I see."

Rangiku almost wanted to slap her. She stiffened her arm, holding it in a tight grip with the other one. What did the Quincy understand? _Yeah, sure._ She thought sarcastically. _Because you got abducted by your races's nemesis, and your life is on the line. It's been over a month and everyone in the palace might just want to rip your guts out. _"Mhm." She murmured.

The Empress seemed to have noticed her rigidness. She stood up, wandering to window. "I am one of the three last Gemischt Quincy alive. A mix-blood." She said solemnly. "Do you know of the Quincy Legends?"

"I didn't bother to study." Rangiku said flatly, a hint of anger in her eyes. No, she was not angry. She was pissed.

"There is word of a sealed king. The seal on this king would be broken. After nine-hundred years he would regain his heart. After ninety years, he would regain his mind and intellect. After nine years, he would regain his power through stealing the life and power of the Gemischt Quincy."

Rangiku tensed. "You can't be talking about... Yhwach... Can you? I mean- His Majesty. Sorry."

The Empress was quiet. She leaned against the wall, staring out the window. The gears in Rangiku's head turned. And realization struck her. Her eyes wide, she looked at Marie.

"Yes." Marie nodded. "It seems you've gotten it."

Rangiku swallowed. "So... You're going to die?"

"Indeed."

"But you're the Queen of the Quincy..." She faltered. "He would kill his own Queen?"

"Well, we mustn't talk about it."

They drank the 'digestive drink'; an orange and cinnamon tea. And with that they ate apple slices, coffee beans, figs, and raspberries lightly drizzled in dark black chocolate. By the time they had walked out of Marie's private dining room, Rangiku was full.

"Do you always eat like this?" She asked, feeling much more comfortable with the older empress now that they had finally had a more personal discussion.

"More often than not." She said with a smile. "Do you possess a flask yet, m'dear?"

"No?" Rangiku replied in part-question, part-answer.

"Then I expect you shall have a liking for what I've left for you."

Rangiku returned to her quarters after a day of carousing with the Empress. Her bedroom had been moved to the top of the Bath Tower due to the utter destruction of her previous room. The floor, made of dark, smooth slate tiles were constantly heated and slightly damp with fragrant oils, making her dry, desert feet appreciate the moisture. There was also a wonderful, glorious AC hanging over the bathroom door to make up for the heat rising from the bath house beneath. Besides the bathroom walls, the rest of the walls were compromised with large, modern-style windows and walls.

Through the windows... the view of Nirvana was breath taking. Those same, fire-fly lights flew over the city in millions. It was if the stars and constellations had fallen from the sky and burst into stardust. She flopped onto the bed, admiring the view.

On the bedside table, she discovered a white box laced in golden ribbons. Upon opening, she pulled out a pretty fluorescent copper flask, engraved with her name. Her real name. Her un-english name. Her actual Japanese name. Not 'shinigami'.

松本 乱菊.

For the first time, she felt at home. She felt as if someone understood her - felt her. Could see her. She wasn't an invisible hostage being weighed for value. She was Rangiku Matsumoto.

_There are no duties... It's beautiful... So luxurious. Nice clothes. Do I want to go home? There's no one for me at home. And the Empress is kind._ She was beginning to question everything. Questions and queries burst into her mind. It was nice here. Plus, the Empress enjoyed her company. The lonely, lonely Empress who would die one day.

She fell asleep, the flask held tightly in the grip of her palm.

_Should I stay?_

* * *

Isane scrambled up, trying to get to her feet. The air was muggy, and the room she was in, however dark, felt very big. Each step she took echoed for what sounded like miles. But when she stood to her full height, she hit the ceiling with her head.

"Ouch." She said to no one, holding her head painfully. The ceiling was made of stone. Carved stone bricks.

There were two things Isane was afraid of. Generally. Actually there were many. But she could start by saying that she did not like the Dark. The Dark was a thing. The Dark was a monster that tried to eat her every night. The other thing she could say she was afraid of, was small spaces. Especially where she couldn't stand up completely.

The two combined made her a nervous wreck.

She stumbled blindly through the dark, summoning what little glowing Kidô she could muster from her hand. It was so pitch, so black, so dark, that the suffocating air around her seemed to swallow the Kidô as soon as she had swallowed it. For a few seconds, before her power dimmed, she saw that she was surrounded by shelves and racks. And then she was plunged back into the dark.

Afraid.

Alone.

And miserable.

She kept walking, not sure what she was looking for. It could go on forever. She had expected her zanpakuto to guide her somewhere, but found no presence. The air was like honey. It was thick. Every movement, every step sucked the breath and energy from her. It was as if the Dark was eating her very soul. Someone could easily lose everything in here. Someone could easily go insane in here. Someone could die.

She began to hum.

It made it harder to walk and she struggled to inhale and exhale, but it also eased her nerves. She kept humming. As she walked deeper and deeper, she made more of an effort to go faster. She dragged herself through it, until finally. She stopped.

A putrid smell pierced her nose. What was it? How could one describe it? Well, to describe it best and most accurately, one could say, it smelled exactly like. Piss.

Breathing hard, there seemed to be an extra echo. And extra, uneven echo she couldn't remember hearing before. Fear tangled her entire body into chains. She stopped. She held her breath. The blood ran up to her head. She locked up. She listened.

As expected, there was another voice.

Breathing hard, panting.

"Hello?" Its' voice was fairly young, but warped. Tired. Rough. "Leave me alone. If it's you, Syazel. Stop. Please. I'm begging you. Just... let me be."

"Akon?" Isane gasped, reaching her hand out to where the voice was. All she wanted was someone else's warmth. To know that there was someone else with her in that cold dungeon.

"Akon, Third Seat of the Twelfth Division, is that you?" Her hand found his. Him and his warmth. She wandered closer. He was sticky. And it wasn't sweat. It was blood. Lots and lots of blood. "Oh my g- You're terribly hurt! What did they do to you?" She asked, her voice quiet and low. The cruelty of the Quincy would never end, would it? Dangerously close to tears, she inched forward.

"No shit." He said with a dry laugh.

"Stop. Don't talk too much." Her hand felt around him.

"There are bonds on my hands higher up. Legs too."

"'Kay. I'll get you out. Don't worry. J-Just stay put." Isane fiddled with the bonds at his hands, trying to loosen them.

"I think they're tied too tight." He moaned, dismayed.

"No, hold on. I have surgeon scalpels." Isane assured, searching the hem of her dress.

"What?" Akon snickered. "_You?_ A sweet little nurse from the Fourth Division?"

"C-Captain Unohana makes me carry them around..." Isane said defensively. She pulled out a scalpel, slowly working at the thick-fibered bonds.

"Interesting captain. You should be in the Twelfth Division instead."

"Captain Kurotsuchi h-hates my captain... And I don't want to get involved with those a-awful experiments." Isane stuttered, cutting through the rope.

"Thanks." Akon muttered, massaging his palms.

Isane reached down to cut the lower bonds, sawing the strained cloth.

"Kotetsu!"

The warning came too late. A hand grabbed her shoulder. Something slimy and thick wrapped about her neck. She choked up in panic.

"_Shit!_" Akon wriggled free. A gust of wind blew past her. Two feet landed on the ground. She heard him hiss. "_Get the fuck away!_"

"_Oh?_ Is that anyway to talk to someone whose been taking such good care of you for the past month?" Another voice chortled. "...I understand you to be from the Twelfth Division. But only Mayuri Kurotsuchi of the Twelfth Division is worthy to be my opponent. And neither of are Mayuri Kurotsuchi."

Isane sensed the Third Seat lunge. There was a clatter and a punch.

"No zanpakuto? Please."

Isane fell backwards as her slimy chokehold released her. Her head hit against a wall. The lights flickered on - rows and rows of dim ceiling lamps illuminating the room. It was vast, just as Isane had guessed. There were columns of containment tubes, some bigger than others. Closer to the entrance Isane had come from were shelves of material she'd never seen before. Circuits, body parts- it all varied.

In front, not far from the case that Akon had been bonded in was an Espada. Isane remembered something about him. _A voodoo doll ability, defeated by Mayuri Kurotsuchi through a stabbing of the heart. Tools used: undiluted sense narcotics, zanpakuto_. _Syazel Aporro_, She recalled, running through teh files she'd read.

Syazel had pink hair, a lab coat, white glasses, and revolting, blood-engorged tentacles protruding from his back. Akon elbowed his face, but the arrancar returned the blow with a spin of his flexible appendage.

Isane searched desperately. Yes, the zanpakuto would be here somewhere. Her eyes caught a case down one of the aisles. Sure enough, there were the zanpakuto. Isane sprinted down the aisle, passing by the cases. She skid to a halt, jutting her scalpel into the glass case. She threw the small instrument aside, its' blade now bent in half. The glass shattered, and she yanked Itegumo from the bonds, holding the zanpakuto close to her heart as she ran back to where Akon was getting beaten to guts.

"_Run, Itegumo!_" She screamed, charging him with a straightened arm. Her blade revamped, splitting into three. The arrancar had been too busy with Akon to have a fast enough reflex. He turned, last moment, his golden eyes shining for an instant. _No, not his head,_ She thought. Her blade curved downwards, goring his shoulder and chest.

Her eyes came wet, upset with what she had done. The arrancar hit the floor. "_Again_." He whispered, his body cold. Isane put a hand on his back, sitting beside him on her knees. He blew apart. Right beneath her hand. Particles of reishi descended on Itegumo's glossy surface. Isane looked into it.

She was sullen. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. Her hair had grown longer. The maids had given her a different hairdo. Her skin was pale. White as cloud, white as the moon, white as snow. Her eyes were red.

Nothing was the same.

_You are not Isane Kotetsu._ A voice echoed in her head.

_Itegumo?_ Isane whispered.

The zanpakuto did not answer.

Akon paced up to her, placing a light hand on her shoulder.

"I was supposed to be a doctor." She breathed after a while. Sullen. "I thought I was a doctor."

"C'mon. We don't have time. Let's go." He sighed. She looked up. He was worn, his eyes cold and tense. His frame was weak and frail, as if there was nothing left to him and he was just a tattered sculpture of bone and skin.

"'Kay." Isane murmured, sniffling. She gathered the zanpakuto that were in the case and prepared to leave. However, Akon was already too enfeebled to go on. She offered her back to him. He shifted on her back, holding the bundle of zanpakuto in his arms. Isane braced herself for his weight, but was surprised when he hardly weighed anything.

Together they climbed up the stairwell.

* * *

_**A/N:**__ I would like to apologize for this chapter being so late. I've just had a lot to do: school, vacation plans and everything, so updates will be irregular. Next week I will be on travel out in the country. No WiFi, so I'll be drafting all week. If I get the chance, I will post. Promise :) Remember to comment, review, and follow if you enjoyed the chapter. Until then!_


	10. Brought Under

**Chapter 10**

Brung Under

"Would you like to be my..." The Empress opened her mouth to talk. Rangiku thought she would say something like 'hand-maiden' or 'privileged guest'. But instead she said "my... confidant here? I can assure your safe return to Soul Society when this is all over." Her fingers tapped along her arm, as if she was playing some piano song.

Rangiku thought for a moment or two. Deep inside, she knew, that either the Quincy or the Shinigami would be annihilated. It was either one or the other. Neither could exist while the other did. Rangiku was a Shinigami. And Marie D'Aubigne, the dying Empress of Nirvana, was a Quincy. Yet there were always going to be exceptions. When Rangiku looked up, she didn't see a queen. She saw a friend.

Rangiku nodded. The pair continued their walk on the palace wall.

A strong wind was blowing, gusting a cold, dry air through Rangiku's scalp. She looked over the desert, the starlight gleaming along with the candlelight in the city. She took in a deep breath, the sweet, fresh air filling her lungs. She had lost track of time. With a constant night, it was impossible for her to know whether it was morning, noon, or night. She wasn't even sure that the Quincy ate their meals in the right order. The only means Rangiku had of telling time was through the enormous clock that hung in the Dining Hall.

She wondered what the Shinigami were doing now. What the Captain was doing. What Shuhei was doing. She stared at the moon overhead- the moon that never moved. It seemed so fake. Unreal.

"The next sunrise will be tonight." Marie announced, her hands on the wall as she gazed out into the sandy nothingness beyond the barrier. "When it comes, you should take the time to enjoy the sun."

"Yeah." Rangiku said, distant.

"Don't be gloomy." Marie grinned, poking Rangiku's breast. "You've got too much to look forward to."

Rangiku's lips puckered indignantly as she attacked the Empress in turn. "I've always been suspicious of this bust of yours." She said shrewdly, molesting Marie's bosom. She patted them down. "Oh. They're real." She snickered.

Marie toppled onto the ground, and Rangiku with her. The shinigami slipped clumsily on top of her with an _oomph_, her rear end landing on the Quincy's lean frame.

"_Mon Dieu!_" Marie laughed, "You _are_ heavy!"

"_Shut up_." Rangiku growled. "It's just because I have more bust than you ever will."

Rangiku found it hard to fall asleep that night. She spent most of the time rolling about, trying to find the most comfortable place on the bed. After she had situated herself, she spent the rest of her hours questioning her existence. It was around three in the morning when her eyes finally began to close, sleep dragging her down into the pillows.

A sudden tinge of reiatsu spindled up her spine. Every inch of her tensed. She shot up from bed, instinctively peering towards the door with wide, exhausted eyes; as if she had suddenly been doused by cold water.

The knob did not move.

The presence was faint. But, yes, she recognized it. Definitely a shinigami. There was a commotion downstairs, rattling the floor beneath her feet.

* * *

His consciousness was slipping away quickly. Every moment the pain grew heavier and heavier on his body, dragging him down into the murk of the stomach liquid he'd found himself in. Toshiro stared vacuously at the throat of the hollow; its' teeth circulated along the throat, grinding in circles. He could even spy a little bit of flesh hanging off the edge of them.

_Game over_.

He was as good as dead, stuck in a stomach without even Hyorinmaru to help him. His tendons were too ripped for him to move. Now, he was just a lost toy in a sewer, waiting to be swept away by the filth. He'd already tried to get out. To save Momo. But it was helpless. It was something like a revelation to him. There was no way for him to 'protect' Momo. He hadn't really been 'protecting' her to start with.

He sunk deeper, the stomach of the Vasto Lorde rumbling about him. The liquid moved, and he moved with it, completely unable to control where he was going. Somewhere, something in his torso was punctured. His breaths were becoming heavier and heavier, his lungs filled with water. He coughed up, an immense volume of liquid gushing out of his mouth, past his lips, and drizzling into the pool. Everything was blurring around him, he was swept away by waves of stomach acid again, drowning him. The endless pain had turned into a sinking feeling. Like going to sleep.

_Yes. That's it. I'm just going to sleep._

His eyes closed.

_Just going to sleep._

Stop.

His eyes fluttered open. He looked up, breathing out. His warm breath steamed in the frigid air. It took him just a moment to know where he was. His soul world. Hyorinmaru was reared in front of Toshiro; his icy body shining in the splendor of the moonlight.

_You haven't tried, Master_. He said coolly.

"I did." Toshiro said weakly, his eyelids drooping with tire even as he struggled to keep them over. "There's nothing I can do. I'm not good enough." He wheezed. "I... _Give up_."

_The Quincy have changed you, little Master._

"I'm not little." Toshiro spat.

_ Yes you are._

"No, I'm not."

_ I'm afraid you are, little Master._

"No I'm not!"

_Prove it!_ Hyorinmaru roared. Sharp air whipped around Toshiro. He held his arms in front of his face. If ice sculptures could express their feelings, Hyorinmaru might have been a boiling pot of water.

"_Fine!_" Toshiro screamed. "_I'll do it without your help!_"

The zanpakuto was suddenly very calm. _You can't. _Hyorinmaru echoed solemnly. His tail twitched.

"I'm not going to stay here and argue with you."

_Not alone_.

Toshiro's hand shot out of the acidic liquid, grasping a wall of the stomach in his palm. Hyorinmaru's blade scourged up and over his head, skewering the flesh of the Vasto Lorde. Blood sprayed onto his face, blasting into the stomach juices.

His captain's uniform was a sheet of red as he jammed the zanpakuto in. Over and over and over again. Even in the heat of the stomach, his cold anger filled his eyes like a blizzard.

The blade glinted, its' bitter foil shredding into the meat. The stomach shook violently, a thundering sound just above his head. He flew backwards, slamming against the slimy wall on the other side. The bleeding stomach sap washed onto him, carrying him over his feet. Every cut, every laceration, slash on him stung. Burned. Throbbed. No, it _hurt_. It hurt so much he felt his head would _explode_ with how much it hurt.

He clambered upwards, the stomach slanting sideways. He tore his sandals off, digging his feet into the tissue as he clawed his way up to the gash. Every piece of himself worked, crunching and loosely fitting together like a broken machine just barely working. Ice growing at his lesions, cutting off the crimson that spilled forth. He hauled himself forward, up the slope just as the stomach walls began to close on him. They drew suffocatingly close, squeezing the life out of him.

His eyes shut tight, blinded in the pain and covered with gore. Blood and bodily fluids spurted out of his mouth and the puncture in his trunk. With the last droplet of his effort, he flung himself into the Vasto Lorde's wound.

Fresh air blew onto his face. He plummeted to the ground.

The only thing he could catch as he fell was the Vasto Lorde was screaming. It was the sound of a strangled child.

Toshiro thudded onto the sand. His head flipped up, nearly drowning in his own blood. He gasped for air. But his lungs wouldn't take the air. He was breathing. But he wasn't breathing. A blur soared over him. There was a clang of metal and bronze. A screech. The darkness of the night ate at the edges of his sight. His eyes were swallowed.

* * *

**NOTE***: School is starting in about a week for me (unless the teachers go on strike). I will be taking a break on this story b/c I need time to get my motivation back for it. In the mean time, I'll be working on an Unohana fan fiction. Also, if you liked this please comment what character you were following with.**


	11. Dawn In The Dawnless City

**Chapter 11**

Dawn In The Dawnless City

"Hang on Momo." Toshiro cried, his voice strained. Captain Unohana had just finished healing him. But his good child friend, Momo Hinamori, was on the ground. Her breath was as weak as ever, her eyes sunken and dark. Blood pooled beneath her frail body, sinking into the sand.

Her life, sinking into the sand.

"I will." She breathed. "I will." Her eyes were glazed. Her beautiful, sienna-brown eyes.

Captain Unohana worked on Momo's wounds; a set of twelve ruptures in her body and legs. If anyone could heal Momo, it was Unohana. Toshiro was certain of it. Momo gasped, her lungs heaving violently. She coughed up, her pretty, pink lips drizzling with crimson.

Captain Unohana settled her hand on the younger woman's chest, waited a moment, and then took it away. Toshiro stared at her. His hand clenched a handful of sand. His teeth ground together.

The Kidô on Unohana's hands disappeared. She picked up her zanpakuto, Minazuki, and placed it on her lap. Carefully, slowly, and gently, she unsheathed it.

"Wh-What are you doing?" Toshiro croaked. "... Your zanpakuto heals people too, doesn't it?" His eyes returned to Momo. He cradled the shinigami, holding her tight to his chest. "She will heal you, okay? Captain Unohana will heal you. She will make you all better. Right? Yeah? _You are going to be okay._" He beamed. He beamed brightly.

Momo smiled back. "Yes." She whispered. "Yes."

Toshiro's looked between Captain Unohana and Momo. The healer met his misconceptionous gaze. Her dark eyes were as blue as the sea on the coast. They weren't quite as wild. Or quite as spirited. They were calm and sad.

More than anything, they were resolved.

Momo rose carefully, wincing in pain. She sat up as if to surrender herself. Captain Unohana drew her zanpakuto to its' full length.

Toshiro froze for a moment. Obviously he had missed something. Something was not _right_. Between the Fourth Division Captain and his best friend's exchange, he had obviously missed something horribly important.

"Captain Hitsugaya," Unohana said softly. Her voice was even now. Flat. Deadpan. Empty. Nothing. Senseless. Deadened. Numb.

Suddenly he understood.

"_No. No. No, oh no_." He blurted, the words exploding out of him. "_D-don't to this to me. I'm just a boy. Captain Unohana don't-_ Don't do that!" His voice rose, getting louder and louder. It was wavering dangerously. Soon, his words became more and more of a jumble. So much so that they were inaudible. He pulled Momo even closer. Her heartbeat was thundering in his mind. It was thundering in his throat. It was thundering everywhere inside him. "_She's _alive_! Can't you see that? You're a doctor! She's still _alive!" He choked up, losing his words again. The tears came. They came fast.

"Don't cry, Shiro-chan." Momo mouthed. Her eyes pained. Her voice too low to hear. "Don't cry." She was cold, her lips purple. Her heartbeat trailed off somewhere distant. Somewhere far, far away. So far that Toshiro couldn't hear it anymore.

Her eyes turned glassy, reflecting the light of a billion stars overhead.

Her skin cracked with luminescence, splitting into little shards. Her feet and legs began to disperse, the little shards of illumination floating off and crackling into nothing. He looked at her face, into her eyes, wiping away his tears furiously. He couldn't let her go.

His hand held hers tightly, the warmth gone. She felt hollow. Like a shell of sorts. There was nothing left. No smiles to be shared. No secrets to be told. No worlds to explore together. His other hand held her tender cheek, until, it too, snapped and sputtered away, vanishing into the sky the daybreak had unveiled.

Gone.

Momo Hinamori had never existed.

* * *

_ The snow floated down from the sky, peppering the ground with little, tiny flakes. One snowflake melted away instantly, but hundreds together stuck fast to the ground. Toshiro turned his little white-haired head toward the cliff edge. It was a steep drop. The echo of falling pebbles sounded up the valley edge._

_ "Shiro-chan!" Momo called. She was running up the slope to him, her tiny little feet padding through the snow. She halted right behind him as he turned, spying what he'd been looking at. The Seireitei._

_ "Go away." Toshiro growled. "And don't call me that! I'm already six in the living years."_

_ "And I'm seven in living years." Momo grinned proudly._

_ "Whatever."_

_ "Do you wanna go to the Seireitei one day?" Momo asked after awhile._

_ "No." Toshiro said coldly. "I can't."_

_ "Why not?"_

_ "My grandma will be at home alone."_

_ "Oh."_

_ "Lets go home."_

_ The two left the slope, circling down the mountain path and through the woods._

_ "You should do it anyway. Shiro-chan. You can do anything."_

* * *

"_I fucking HATE YOU!_" Toshiro screamed, "_I HATE YOU SO MUCH!_" His cries seemed deaf on Captain Unohana's ears. The sterile healer was already putting away her blade. She slung Minazuki over her arm, standing in the light of the rising sun.

If she had been the one to finish off the Vasto Lorde, why the hell hadn't she done it earlier? Toshiro seethed, sucking air between his teeth. He was pissed. Angry. The black rings beneath his eyes darkened even more as he glowered behind Captain Unohana's back, imagining what she would look like impaled by a blade.

Rukia approached, looking downwards as she spoke. "We don't have time. Captain Hitsugaya, it's time to go."

He stood up abruptly, almost forgetting his zanpakuto. He snapped around, picked it up, and swept after the rest of the group, furious with everyone and everything. Rukia trudged after, not far behind.

He pulled a fresh desert cloak around him, the cold licking at his body.

_ I hate every single one of them._

_ I'm afraid it's your fault you are suffering so, Young Master. You were too selfish. _Hyorinmaru whispered at the back of his mind. _But remember, whatever you decide from here. I will be there to endorse you._

_ Shut the hell up._

* * *

Rangiku scanned the hallway, Haineko's hilt in her hand. She'd found a part of herself, that was for sure. After so long without her zanpakuto, the blade seemed nearly alien. She split down the hallway, keeping on her toes.

Isane and Akon followed behind, swords drawn. "Nanao messaged us a couple minutes ago." Isane explained. "The higher class Stern Ritter detected a bunch of shinigami life forms on the outskirts, we have to get out now."

"What do you mean 'messaged'?" Rangiku asked quizzically as Isane sped up. Her breath already heavy from running. "_Argh_. Slow down!"

"Sorry. She messaged us from the tablets." Isane smiled meekly, holding up a stylus and a small, glass screen in her hand. "Remember? You got one too."

"Aw shit. I left it behind." Rangiku hit her forehead with her palm. "Damnit."

"It's okay. It's too late to go back anyway." Akon said flatly, struggling to keep up with Isane's pace as well.

"Ye-" Isane began. Rangiku's eyes widened as Isane somersaulted over, tripping on the top of the stairs. She tumbled down the stair, collapsing at the end. "Ow..."

"_Damnit, don't be so loud!_" Akon hissed. The sound of doors opening sounded in the level above, footsteps echoing around. "_Go, go, go!_"

Rangiku pulled Isane to her feet, scampering around the corner and down to the Main Hall. Early sunlight filtered in from the high windows, lighting the large table in the center. There was a moment of silence.

"_Shit_."

At the table, in each of the chairs, was a Quincy. Some were Stern Ritter and some were too old to be Stern Ritter- but nonetheless, looked like they were fully capable of decapitating a captain or two. Most of the expressions were rattled. After another moment, the Quincy stood up abruptly, weapons drawn.

The only one still sitting down was a large, tall man. His hair was long, oily, and stringy. The look on his face was indifferent - completely unalarmed. "How nice of you to join us." He said gruffly, calmly rising from his chair. "We were just discussing what would be done with you." He smiled. It seemed as if he hadn't smiled in a very long time, or perhaps forgotten how to smile. It was an ugly smile - twist-toothed and yellow.

"_Juhabach_." Rangiku shuddered under her breath. The hairs on her neck prickled. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move.

The Empress. There. Marie was sipping a cup of tea, hidden between two Stern Ritter. She glanced about, ignoring Rangiku completely.

"Now that we've finished greeting each other, I believe there's been a bit of a rumor of an escape route for you shinigami, correct?" Juhabach said, his voice the only sound in the hallway. "I think Syazel would appreciate having his reishi tablets and styluses back."

The shinigami tensed.

"We'll find them sooner or later. Please return them."

Rangiku's eyes met Akon. He nodded. No one stood a chance against all the Stern Ritter. Rangiku drew her zanpakuto, drawing in a deep breath. _But perhaps it's worth... _Her thought was walked forward tentatively, her head drooping. Clasped in her hands behind her back was the tablet.

"_What are you doing?_" Rangiku hissed. "_Th-_" She stopped mid sentence. Isane was tapping at some text on the tablet. Isane tipped her head, looking over her shoulder. "It's not worth while." There was a shine in her grey eyes.

Rangiku squinted, trying not to look too suspicious. Nanao had messaged: _get to the Hospital Wing_ in large, green text.

Akon laughed.

And then the Main Hall blew up.

Isane raced down the hall, running through the dust, her clothing singed. She dared not look behind her. She kicked the hospital door open (something that would be completely unacceptable in the presence of her captain), running in. This was the meeting place. She looked around, checking for Nanao. The Hospital Balcony was open, the glorious sun beaming through. She walked into the light of it, warmth unfurling across her delicate skin. She wanted to hug the sun. Hug it. Love it. Marry it.

But of course, now was not the time to be wedding solar system gas giants.

"Nanao?" She called, looking for the lieutenant.

"_Nanao isn't here._"

* * *

** NOTE***: **Okay, so, fudge, school is starting now. Updates will probably getting rarer and rarer. But oh wells. Suck it. Now for apologies: I understand that this is beginning to get **_reallyreallyreallyreally_** boring. Now that's because I'm running out of ideas (excuses excuses). _So_! If anyone has an idea or two they wan't to pitch in, I'll run it over, edit it, and (maybe, possibly, probably not, perchance, perhaps, conceivably not) add it to the fan fiction. Now, without further ado- signing off! :D

**_(To Isane fans: You know how people say 'I promise' and then they don't? Well I PROMISE Isane will have a big scene next chapter. PROMISE. So maybe. We'll see. *Maniacal Laughter*)_**


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